


Virtually Indistinguishable

by Lepidopteran (inarticulate)



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Bondage, D/s, Kink Shaming, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mistaken Identity, Punishment, Relationship Negotiation, Safewording, Sub Drop, Suspension, Virtual Reality, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inarticulate/pseuds/Lepidopteran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine is an inexperienced sub looking for an introduction to D/s through a virtual reality program called SafePlay.  Unbeknownst to him, a bug in the program makes the program match him with a real person instead of the AI he thinks he's getting.  But the more sessions Blaine has with Kurt, the more he wishes that Kurt were real…</p><p>Written for a prompt at the GKM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is currently a rough draft, entirely unbetaed. Should I edit this like I hope to, the original draft will always be available on this thread of the GKM, typos and all: http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/36785.html?thread=47622065 Huge thanks to the OP for a fantastic prompt and to everyone over on the kink meme— I have never been able to write so much so fast in my life, so thank you. You are all fantastic.
> 
> Also a content note: the mildly dubious consent in the tags is referring to the fact that Blaine cannot give informed consent due to the nature of the bug, but there is uninformed consent all over the place.

Blaine's heart beats too fast as he picks up the VR headset and slips the chip in with trembling fingers. He's planned this for over a year, had bought the unit as soon as he'd heard Trent enthusiastically and unashamedly talking it up. Countless times before he'd _nearly_ put the chip in, _nearly_ uploaded into the program once his eighteenth birthday rolled around. Before that, too, he'll admit to himself if he's feeling very honest, though the thought of having to override the over-eighteen rules made his stomach turn uneasily. But when he lived at home, there was always the risk of his parents finding out. No matter that they never cared before, he didn't want _this_ to be what they saw when they finally started paying attention to his VR activity logs. It was safer to wait. Instead, he programmed the chip countless times, created his account, changed his email when he switched providers, without ever actually going in.

So here he sits. It's Thanksgiving break of his freshman year of college at NYADA, his roommate is safely out of the state for the holiday, and he is finally going to be able to create his SafePlay account.

He licks his lips and hesitates once the headset is on, taking three slow breaths and shifting around to make sure he's in a comfortable position. He doesn't want to have to leave in the middle because his physical body got a cramp. He imagines a man, a _Dom_ , standing there in the room with him, telling him a deep, commanding voice to calm down. It's easier that way.

But he won't have to imagine much longer. He won't have to control what the imaginary man says or does to him. Those things will just happen _to_ him, and Blaine won't have to think about anything but making that man happy.

He flicks on the headset and takes a moment to adjust to the homespace he created for his virtual account. He bounces on his toes a few times to test the sensory impulses and make sure the connection is synchronizing properly with his brain. Once he's satisfied that he'll be able to feel this, really _feel_ whatever happens to him— and not knowing is giving him the best kind of butterflies— he taps the screen in the center to bring up the chip mods. SafePlay looks so out of place among the other mods, which are things like Virtual Stage and Feel That Beat, and Blaine taps it. The World whisks him away with a gentle lurching sensation and a reminder to close his eyes in case of disorientation.

When Blaine opens his eyes again, he finds himself in a warm, comfortable lounge filled with plush couches. A harmonizer stands in front of him in the form of a young woman wearing casual clothes with a low enough neckline to reveal a collar. She's smiling gently. "Hello," she says, her voice soft and melodious. "Welcome to SafePlay, the safe space for your personal exploration and enjoyment. You are currently in our default environment and settings. Would you like to disengage privacy mode?"

"No," Blaine says quickly.

"Privacy mode reinforced. For this visit, will you be dominant or submissive?"

Blaine doesn't hesitate. His voice rings out, confident and sure; Blaine Anderson is nothing if not a showman. "Submissive."

"Submissive," the harmonizer repeats. "Are you here to meet anyone in particular?" A keyboard and a box pop up, but Blaine waves them away, his stomach tightening as he waits. "SafePlay match. Anonymous, named, or AI?"

Blaine hesitates. He decided back when he first got the chip that he would use an AI for his first foray into submission, but the thought of being with someone _real_ , someone who would really respond to him has tempted him a few times. But no. Blaine doesn't want to have to worry about disappointing someone again. It wouldn't be fair to someone looking for a good scene to have to deal with an inexperienced sub who doesn't know the first thing about, well, anything. "AI," he says, though it comes out mumbled. He clears his throat reflexively and repeats, "AI. Male."

"AI, male," the harmonizer repeats. "Please specify your preferences and your safeword."

The keyboard pops up again, this time with a prompt screen detailing everything from physical preference for partner to kinks. Blaine leaves most of the partner preferences set to "any," except for specifying an age close to Blaine's, and selects the button allowing sexual content in a scene. He selects the traffic light system for his safeword; he's considered something whimsical like Pavarotti, after the bird he looked after as part of the Warblers, but for his first time it makes more sense to have a more detailed vocabulary instead of a simple stop. For the kinks, he marks off his hard limits even though he's selected his preferences for opt in instead of opt out. He's not going for anything too adventurous this time. He's just looking to get his feet wet, he can't get too greedy without knowing what he's doing. The only things he's marked for the scene are simple: obedience and bondage, with impact play in the maybe section because his eyes keep getting drawn back to it like the words are covered in glitter.

The harmonizer parrots his list back at him, the words washing over him. Blaine loses himself a little in the way that this feels so _real_ , that this is all happening after he's dreamed about it for so long. Finally, the harmonizer draws to a close and Blaine closes his eyes. "Confirm," he says, and then it's done. The location shifts again, and when he opens his eyes, he's in the welcoming room he'd specified. The bed is large, with blue sheets that look soft and clean. There are no toys visible, only an oversized but discreet dresser. The rug underneath his feet is soft.

This is happening. Blaine can barely swallow around the lump in his throat, and his fingers twitch restlessly on the VR switch in case it's physical. He wonders if he should kneel, if that would be too presumptuous when nobody's told him to. It can't just be the VR setting; everything in this room looks brighter the longer he looks, sparkling with possibility. But even here, even knowing he's safe, that an AI Dom is going to come in and take care of him, he can't quite let go of the fear that he's going to do something wrong.

In the end, he takes off his shoes instead of going to his knees. He doesn't have time to think too much about whether that's the right thing to do, because his appears and Blaine's eyes widen. The program couldn't have selected a more perfect model for Blaine's AI, tall and slim and impeccably dressed in a tailored outfit that accentuates slip hips and powerful biceps. His face, too, is lean and far too handsome to be real, letting Blaine relax a little. His eyes flick over Blaine's body and a small smile grows on his face.

"Hello, there." Even his _voice_ is perfect, high and gentle and playful instead of deep and rough. It's nothing like Blaine's been imagining; it's better.

"Hello," Blaine says, smiling back. It's impossible not to. "I'm Blaine."

"Blaine," the AI repeats, just like the harmonizer, allowing Blaine to correct the input before continuing. "I'm Kurt."

"Should I call you sir?" Blaine wants to know.

The AI— Kurt; if Blaine is going to do this, he's going to sink into the fantasy instead of thinking of this as a program— smiles wider. "Do you want to?"

Blaine hesitates. "I don't know," he admits. "This is my first time; I'm not really sure what I should be doing." There. He's said it out loud, even if it's just in the safety of a VR program.

"Oh." Kurt's mouth parts, his lashes dipping over his eyes. "You haven't done anything?"

Blaine tells himself that he doesn't need to be nervous, that nobody's going to judge him, that he hasn't opted into humiliation. He shakes his head. "No. I'm here to learn." He licks his lips and tries to let go, ducking his head so that he can't see Kurt's expression.

"Hmm." He can't feel Kurt stepping closer, but he can see the tips of Kurt's boots come into view on the floor. Blaine's heart rate, which had slowed down to almost normal, picks up again, shaking him inside out and making his breath come harder. "Well, Blaine, why don't we experiment and see what you're comfortable with? Down on your knees." And, oh, that last sentence is said in a different voice, less playful and full of the kind of confidence that Blaine fakes every day. Blaine hits the floor hard, fast enough that the VR sends a brief nerve echo of pain. It's worth it for the way that Kurt rests his hand on Blaine's head, warm and sure. "That's very good."

Blaine melts into the touch, just a little, as contentment bubbles up inside him. "Sir," he says, experimentally, and closes his eyes against the thrill it sends through him.

Kurt's fingers tighten briefly in Blaine's curls, and for a second Blaine thinks he's done something wrong. But Kurt just laughs softly, the sound free of contempt or judgement, and says, "It looks like you like that."

"Yes, sir," Blaine agrees happily, more to say it again than anything else. His skin feels like it's humming.

"So tell me, Blaine, what are you looking for out of this?" It's a question, but it _sounds_ like a command, like that order Kurt gave. Blaine feels a little more of his own control relax.

"I want to make you feel good, sir." The words spill out of him, raw. He feels like he's said them before, dozens of times, but each time making them into something too-earnest so that nobody will hear the desperate _need_ behind them. "I want— I want to be good for someone."

Kurt's fingers tighten again, and this time he pulls Blaine up by the hair, gentle enough not to be painful, but forceful enough that Blaine feels arousal shoot down his spine from his scalp. His throat his vulnerable like this. Blaine thinks about how Kurt can see every nervous bob of Blaine's throat, and, _oh_. That's all it takes for him to feel himself get hard. It's never been this quick before; they're still fully clothed, and Kurt hasn't even really _touched_ him.

After a long moment, Kurt lets go of Blaine's hair, leaving Blaine aching and bereft. He watches Kurt move to the dresser and open it, pulling out— cuffs, rope, a paddle, and lubricant, which Kurt lines neatly up on top before closing the door. Blaine doesn't know which of those items he wants most.

Kurt turns back to Blaine. "Color?" he asks.

"Green," Blaine says immediately, _so very green_ , and Kurt rewards him by picking up the rope.

"It's your first time, so we won't do anything too complicated. We're not going to use all of these unless you want them." Blaine thinks he could drown in Kurt's voice, in how gentle he is while still being so sure. "Strip and come here, Blaine. No— don't get up. Stay on your knees. You look good like that, kneeling for me."

Blaine's hands immediately go to his shirt, pulling it off in one movement before he has to think about his pants and the logistics there. This is virtual reality; he could easily remove all his clothing without the avatar of himself having to move a muscle, but that feels like cheating. He's not here because he wants it to feel unreal. He's here because he wants— he's here because he _wants_. So he unbuttons and unzips and spreads his legs a little to stay balanced as he rises up on his knees and pushes his pants and underwear down to his knees. From there, he hesitates again, feeling exposed, but when he risks a glance at Kurt, he sees an unmistakeable bulge and a flush on Kurt's cheeks.

Finally, because he doesn't want to take too long, Blaine shifts his legs to the side to pull off the rest of his clothing. When he's naked, he settles back into the kneel.

"Good boy," Kurt says, and comes towards him with the rope. "Hands behind your back."

Blaine obeys, eager, and then Kurt's behind him, positioning Blaine's wrists and tying them. The sensation of his wrists being surrounded, being _bound_ , takes Blaine's breath away, and he rests his chin against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. There's a rhythm to how Kurt is tying them, too, that makes Blaine think, oddly, of dance. Kurt is slow and steady and inescapably secure. When he tells Blaine to move his wrists apart, Blaine obeys before he even realizes that he's been given an order.

This is what he's been craving all along, he thinks, heady with it. Kurt's finger trails down Blaine's spine, between his arms, and it's like a live wire being dragged down Blaine's skin. He moans.

"Look at you," Kurt says, his voice soft and fuzzy around the edges. "This is so good for you." He might be saying something else, but Blaine's finding it harder to focus, now. Everything's sharpened down to the restraints, to the way they're tight and solid and there. He wants to be touched, and he keeps making little involuntary sounds that he can't control. "Blaine. _Blaine_ , pay attention." As soon as Kurt's voice gets sharper again, it's easier to pay attention to. "Come up here, Blaine. You can do it. Stand up and come here. On the bed."

Blaine latches onto the simple orders gratefully, climbing awkwardly to his feet. He feels off-balance but so settled by the entire situation, bone-deep. He tells himself that almost nothing has happened, that this isn't anything at all, but it's hard to reconcile how simple the situation is— it's just rope and nudity and Kurt's beautiful voice— and how it feels like it's filling all the empty places in Blaine.

Once Blaine's on the bed, on his stomach, Kurt rests a hand on the curve of his ass. "Color." It's not a question this time.

"Green, sir," Blaine says, and he's rewarded with a light slap. It doesn't even hurt, but it makes Blaine shift his hips against the bed underneath him.

"You've needed this for a while, haven't you?"

It's not really a question, but Blaine answers anyway. "Yes, sir." He thinks about the way he's been floating aimlessly for years, trying to hold onto music to shape him into something. He thinks about how much easier it is here, with Kurt's attention fixed on him. And then he doesn't think anything at all, because Kurt is tugging his hair again, making him moan, and then stroking down his neck and between his shoulderblades. "Sir…" Blaine doesn't know what he's asking for, but it's so easy to trust that Kurt will give it to him anyway.

And Kurt does. He touches Blaine all over, while Blaine is held immobile by the ropes and his position and the command in Kurt's voice when Blaine starts to shift too much. The touches go from feather light to gentle slaps, nothing painful. Blaine floats, losing track of time and everything but the symphony of sensation that Kurt is creating on his skin. His orgasm is a surprise; he comes with his cock entirely untouched, without any warning, and finds himself jolted back into some sort of awareness again by it.

Kurt doesn't seem bothered, but he moves so that he's sitting in front of Blaine's head and pats his lap. "Put your head here," he says, and Blaine squirms up. _Kurt_ hasn't come yet, and it doesn't matter that he's an AI, Blaine suddenly wants desperately to make him come. He squirms forward more and tries to mouth at Kurt through his pants, but Kurt tugs his hair and says, "Blaine, no," in a sharp voice.

Blaine subsides, a frisson of shame going through him before Kurt tugs his hair again and resumes stroking his back. It's not until Kurt starts rubbing his wrists that Blaine realizes that he's been untied. "Is that it?" he asks. Disappointment creeps into his tone. He doesn't have to bother trying to hide it here. He doesn't want to. Something in him has relaxed.

Kurt laughs and pulls Blaine's arms up over his head to keep rubbing his wrists. "It's your first time," he says, amused. "We went a little off script, but it didn't seem like you needed anything more this time."

"You didn't come."

"You've stopped calling me sir," Kurt points out, and Blaine stops, blinks, realizes that's true. "This sort of thing isn't something that has one answer or one way of doing things." He sets Blaine's wrists down and starts stroking Blaine's hair instead. "Give yourself some time to ease into this."

Blaine thinks about it, really thinks about it, thinks about how safe he feels lying here with Kurt. It's not the intense scene that he imagines when he closes his eyes, but before he came, there was _something_. There's a peace inside him, stilling all the things that Blaine's been trying to run from all these years. "I'm not very good at this," he says, though, because it's true. He's not.

"Shh. No. Listen to me, Blaine. This is a process. This is about what finding out what works for you and the other person. You said you wanted to be good for me." _I didn't get to make you come,_ Blaine thinks, but Kurt continues. "And you were, Blaine. You were _so_ good for me. You did everything I asked. You were _so good._ And now you have to respect my limits."

Embarrassingly, Blaine feels tears form behind his eyes as Kurt praises him, and he takes a deep, shaky breath. He nods into Kurt's thigh. "Okay," he says.

Kurt cups his hand around the back of Blaine's neck like a collar, like a promise. "I want to see you again," he says. "It doesn't have to be a scene, but part of being a good Dom is checking up on your sub after a scene. And if you'd like to scene again, we can talk a little more first about things you'd like to try. I'll give you my ID, and we can meet up tomorrow. Is that all right?"

"Yes," Blaine whispers. He feels like he could sink back into that place he just came out of. He has to bite back the sir again. "Um. The same time?"

"That would be lovely." There's a faint ping in the background. "Do you know how SafePlay works? I've sent my ID to your account, but I don't know yours, and I don't know your email. It all goes through SafePlay. Tomorrow, instead of going through the matchups, you're going to enter my ID."

Blaine rolls over and grins up at Kurt. He didn't realize that worked with AI as well, but it makes sense. This way, the programming doesn't have to create the perfect Dom multiple times, and Kurt will _remember what happened_. Blaine thrills a little at that. "Okay," he says.

He doesn't want to leave SafePlay. Coming back to his own body is a mess; he's come in his pants, of course, and the room seems dimmer, more cramped. But when he stands up to stretch and clean himself up, he imagines Kurt's voice in his ear, telling him what to do, and he can't stop smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt disconnects from the device with his toes curling and a smile on his face that he can't banish like he just found Paul Smith trousers on sale at one eighth of the usual price. He expected to log on and have a low-key, casual scene with a stranger, because he had a very frustrating day and Rachel's life having taken a turn for the dramatic means that Kurt is being subjected to high-volume rants when he wants nothing more than to curl up with the latest issue of Vogue.

There's something about Blaine that makes Kurt's instincts sit up and pay attention. It's not just his looks, though Blaine is classically handsome and perfectly built, with the most expressive face, and his _eyes_ … No, it's something about how simple things had been, how easy everything was, how eager Blaine was to obey him. Kurt's had very, very skilled subs in the past, but there's something about Blaine's newness to this world.

Or maybe it's just his looks.

Whatever the reason, Kurt wants to touch him, to build him up, to take him apart in a way that he hasn't been so focused on since his first sub. He hopes that they can meet up again, that Blaine wants more of this. It seemed like he did, but Kurt doesn't trust what someone is feeling after a scene to always be true, not after John. There's a reason he treats casual match-ups differently. He has to.

Blaine, he thinks, is a fantasy. He's all those stories Kurt has told himself again and again of being able to guide someone, to teach them so that they know exactly what Kurt likes. The perfect sub, who will learn everything with an eager smile, who will be his boyfriend and then give himself over entirely to Kurt when they're in private. It's a fantasy that feels silly to have when he's nineteen years old, when he's living in the city of his dreams, working for the company of his dreams, and accepted into the college of his dreams. And, he tells his heart sternly, the point of SafePlay is that Blaine could be from anywhere in the world. Just in case his heart or his mind start to get any ideas. He was on SafePlay looking for something _casual_ , which is what that was and will remain. Probably.

Still, when he steps in the shower, he thinks about Blaine. He thinks about Blaine's _mouth_ , about the desperate, sloppy way he'd tried to initiate oral sex even with his hands bound. So eager to please. Kurt could probably make Blaine beg to get Kurt off. Kurt closes his eyes and takes himself in hand as the hot water sluices over him. He lets himself imagine Blaine there, his hands tied behind his back but the knotwork even more intricate, encasing Blaine's body in a pattern of diamond knots, his hair flattened by the water. Kurt imagines that he's feeding his cock into Blaine's mouth, that Blaine is kneeling with his mouth open, not pushing, just accepting whatever Kurt gives him.

Kurt comes and inhales a little bit of shower water in the unexpected intensity of his orgasm, which he is _very_ grateful that Rachel isn't home to potentially overhear. It's all very undignified, but at least it doesn't take long to clean up and step out of the shower to start his nightly moisturizing. If he's still thinking about Blaine, even after that, he's not going to linger too much on the reasons why.

* * *

The next day is a whirlwind of activity. Since his hours interning at Vogue VR have been cut out of necessity during college, he works extra during the holidays. And today, unexpectedly, Isabelle takes him out from his position behind a desk and puts a headset with a pre-programmed impersonal model in his hands. Kurt spends his hours walking through the virtual floors, answering questions and talking to strangers about the history of Vogue and fashion. Between that and his planned meeting with Blaine, Kurt feels like he's walking on air by the time he gets home.

Kurt's brought down a bit by the fact that Rachel is in; it means he'll have to work a little harder to keep his privacy. Still, he's smiling all through his call home as he tells his dad about the day and listens to his dad's dutiful but amused daily food report and even afterwards, when Carole takes the phone briefly to confirm Burt's continued health. He ends the call, joins Rachel on her very dramatic rendition of "I'm Not That Girl," and pointedly moves into his own space afterwards.

He takes his time once he's logged in and doesn't upload yet. Instead, he takes the opportunity to check through his newsfeeds.

> _GayPlay@SafePlay via Chris82: pain in vr vs pain irl dec 5@9pm come join us well have demonstrations!!_   
>  _SafePlay update 19.3.1. Security update, new toys, and more!_   
>  _Liam: Hi Kurt, was wondering if you knew how to contact John? I haven't seen him upline or online recently, and I'm getting worried._   
>  _GayPlay@SafePlay via mod: FAQ update, read this!_   
>  _SafePlay update 19.3.2. Bugfix for older chips. AI option working as intended again. Thanks for your patience._   
>  _GayPlay@SafePlay via Chris82: reminder that's dec 5@9pm join us join us!!_   
> 

Despite the tragic exclamation marks and the lack of proper punctuation, the discussion does sound interesting. Kurt does take great joy in deleting the second announcement along with the SafePlay updates, though, before he opens Liam's message to reply.

> _Kurt: I don't know how to contact John, but he'd been having some trouble with work. Give him some time._

That, Kurt thinks, is an understatement, but it's a forgivable one. He's no longer John's Dom in any capacity, and he swore off that entire mess the minute they broke off their arrangement. And he is _not_ thinking about that anymore, not when he has a meeting with Blaine, so he deletes Liam's message as well, leaving only the very first message.

Then it's time for his meeting with Blaine. Kurt uploads and overrides the harmonizer so that he's set to pending in the same preset room as before, so that he can only be invited to a meeting by ID. He uses the time to add a chair, a simple wooden thing so that he doesn't confuse things by sitting on the bed. And he waits.

* * *

Blaine should be riding the high of his first SafePlay experience through the day, but instead he realizes that he hasn't really _connected_ with another human being the way he's connected with SafePlay's AI, and everything starts tumbling towards disaster. He misses the Warblers, the way they were that first year before Wes left and Sebastian showed up, with their open arms and how welcomed he felt there. Here in New York, he doesn't have that. He has his roommate most of the time, who he gets along with, but his roommate is busy with his own life that Blaine isn't a part of.

Of all the problems Blaine knew he'd encounter when he got to college, an inability to make friends wasn't one of them.

It's not as though he doesn't have plenty of people who smile at him in the hallways or talk before classes. But somehow that's never moved to exchanging numbers or meeting up for lunch or any of those other things that Blaine would like to happen but can't bring himself to push for, not anymore. He just smiles, polite and hopeful, and keeps himself available for that moment when someone decides they're interested in him.

And now he realizes how empty that is, as he walks around the world without really talking to anyone, moving from coffee shop to store and back again without so much as catching sight of someone he recognizes.

By the time he uploads into SafePlay, he feels jittery and nervous again, like he can't quite breathe right. It's not fair; he could breathe fine during that scene with Kurt, and he has nothing to be nervous about this time. He knows what Kurt is like, and Kurt is _programmed_. Blaine doesn't need to worry about messing up. But he still hesitates before he puts in Kurt's ID before need overcomes nerves.

Finally, Blaine jabs the ID in like the keypad and closes his eyes. The VR moves him immediately, and before he can open his eyes, he hears Kurt say in a worried tone. "Blaine? What's wrong?"

It all comes down on Blaine in a rush, and he finds himself on his knees in a meeting that isn't a scene— _isn't a scene_ , he reminds himself. But Kurt won't judge him for this weakness, because Kurt _can't_ , and Blaine can be exactly as pathetic as he feels.

Kurt crouches down next to him, his eyes darting all over Blaine's face and his brow drawn together. His hand is warm on Blaine's back. "Oh, Blaine," he says, and he doesn't sound condescending or annoyed. The back on Blaine's hand rubs in small circles. "This is my fault, I'm sorry. I didn't expect— No, what am I saying, that's no excuse."

"Your _fault?_ " Blaine chokes out, incredulous. "No, you're perfect!"

"Well, thank you for recognizing that," Kurt replies, and when Blaine looks up, Kurt's smiling gently at him. "But, no. You were very responsive, Blaine, it makes sense that this—" he waves a hand— "would happen so easily." Blaine must still look confused, because Kurt's smile fades a little bit. "Sub drop? Is this ringing any bells?"

That _does_ ring a bell, but Blaine frowns. "That's for harder play in established relationships," he says. "Something about endorphins."

"Noooo," Kurt says slowly. "Well, yes, if you want to get technical, I suppose it's more common in certain scenarios, but it's not as though there's some magical cut-off line where you _can't_ get sub drop until you've been whipped and played with your partner more than five times." His tone is flippant, but Blaine feels chastised anyway, until Kurt sighs and pulls him into a sideways hug. "Come here. I'm not mad at anyone but myself, Blaine. This is why I wanted to see you."

Blaine closes his eyes and relaxes into the embrace. Virtual reality is strange; he can feel the warmth and the weight of Kurt's imaginary arms around him, but he can't smell anything but the smell of his room, wouldn't be able to taste anything if he put his tongue on Kurt's skin. "So what now?" he mumbles.

"That _is_ the question, isn't it?" Kurt doesn't move away. "I'll understand if you don't want to play with me anymore after that—"

"No!" Blaine blurts out, and he pulls away to look into Kurt's eyes before he drops his gaze to the floor. "No, I want to keep going."

"Alright." Kurt sighs and rests his cheek against Blaine's hair, and Blaine feels the last of the bad feelings melt away as if they'd never existed at all. They stay like that, for a while, quiet and close, before Kurt pulls away with a final, searching look over Blaine's face. "We're going to talk about this, Blaine. I need to know what's going through your head." He sits down, cross-legged, and nods at Blaine. "You're not feeling very good, obviously. Care to elaborate?"

Elaborate. Now that he's here and feeling better, he doesn't want to. Blaine drops his gaze. "I just— I don't feel connected," he says finally, because he doesn't want to talk about the failures outside the scene, he just wants that feeling he experienced inside it again. "Not here, out there."

"Okay, that's very vague." Kurt's voice is dry. "Thank you for sharing, but I'm going to need more detail than that. Is this not about the scene at all?"

Blaine shakes his head and doesn't answer until Kurt scoots over on the floor to sit beside Blaine instead of in front of him, putting his hand back on the center of Blaine's back. Blaine laughs a little, shakily, and hangs his head. This shouldn't be hard. Kurt's an AI; what is he going to say? "I'm a freshman in college," Blaine says. "I thought— I had a group of friends in high school, but I haven't found anything like that here. Everyone's found their groups, and they're all so talented." He smiles a little. "It's amazing. But I—"

"Oh, Blaine." Kurt's voice is heavy with sympathy, and Blaine has to hang his head and laugh breathlessly because he is not going to start crying in VR. That just leads to clogged noses and an inability to breathe. "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to talk about us for a little while, and then we'll come back to this. Believe it or not, I might have some ideas."

Blaine believes it. Kurt is the most amazing AI he's ever met. Greatly daring, he tips his head to the side to rest on Kurt's shoulder. "I believe it."

"I'm never going to be able to focus on this with you acting like this. Blaine. Blaine!" But Kurt doesn't sound angry, he sounds amused, and when Blaine lifts his head up and Kurt moves away to sit in front of him again, his eyes are crinkled up at the corners. "There we go. Focus. I understand that you want to do this again, but what do you want out of it? In your own words, please, don't just parrot your list back at me."

"Sex," Blaine says immediately, then immediately backtracks. "But— not if you're not comfortable with it." He doesn't know how that works. Maybe it's an autosafe built in? He hadn't read anything about it on the forums. But he doesn't want to make Kurt change from _this_ , from this program that makes him feel happy and comfortable and safe. He thinks about what would happen if he made Kurt push harder, and, yes, it's sexy as hell, the idea of Kurt taking complete control, pushing Blaine down and doing whatever he wants. But it's also scary. _Blaine's_ not going to be comfortable like that.

"I can do sex," Kurt says with a sly smile that makes Blaine's skin heat. "But I don't put out on the first date." He catches Blaine's eye. "I'm teasing, Blaine. Just teasing. I think it's very hot that you got so worked up just from that. So, tell me more. What kind of sex?"

Blaine takes a deep breath and, under Kurt's gentle eyes, opens himself up. "I want to try bottoming. I've never done it before, because I want it to be… I want to be used." It's almost too much, the spark of heat in Kurt's face at that, and Blaine stares very hard at the texture of the rug instead.

"It's okay, Blaine. You're doing fine."

Before he can lose his nerve, Blaine looks up and says, "I really want to suck you off. After yesterday." He shifts awkwardly. "I know it's different not tasting it, but I really— I like doing that for people. I'd like to do it for you. If you want."

"Hmm." Kurt's voice sounds a little rougher now, like a purr. "I think that could be arranged. Is there anything you don't want? From sex, I mean, not your limits."

Blaine tries very hard to think of something that he didn't already mark off that he doesn't want. That he doesn't want _with Kurt._ "No," he says finally. "I want to try new things. I want to be adventurous."

Kurt smiles. "That's a very admirable goal. Anything else that we haven't covered?" Blaine shakes his head, and Kurt continues. "All right. Let's dive back into the care and feeding of Blaine." He shifts closer again, hesitates, then reaches out and takes Blaine's hand in his. Blaine inhales sharply and holds Kurt's hand as tight as he dares, enough that he can ground himself. "I take it from your response that you know a little about sub drop?" Blaine nods again. "Good. When you leave tonight— and when we play together again— I want you to make sure you have fruit. Fruit juice is also acceptable, though nothing too processed."

Blaine winces. "I know what I'm supposed to do," he admits. "I just— it really wasn't very much, right?"

"If you start telling me that you're bad at this because you got caught unawares, I'm going to have to get annoyed with you, Blaine. It was your _first time._ Anybody who judges you for being a little bit out of your element is very, very stupid." Kurt tips his head to the side and squeezes Blaine's hand. "We all make mistakes from time to time."

"I want to be better for you," Blaine blurts, "next time."

"I'm sure you will be." Kurt's smile is like a benediction. "You were wonderful, Blaine, I'm not just saying that. You're very sweet and sitting here talking to you is very charming. I don't give my ID if I don't think we're going to work together."

Blaine's breathing is unsteady, but he nods. "It's hard to believe sometimes that I could do something right. Ever." If he closes his eyes, he knows he'll see Cooper behind his lids, he'll see his parents.

"Blaine. Look at me." Blaine does. Kurt looks serious. "I don't always do punishments, but if you're worried about doing something wrong… No, keep your eyes on me. I need to see you. If you do something wrong, I can tell you, and I can punish you, and then it's gone." He waves a hand in the air, palm flat like he's wiping a window. "It's gone, the slate's clean, and you're back to doing everything just right."

Blaine's skin is too hot. He can't pull enough air into his lungs to answer verbally, so he nods.

"Then we'll work on that." Kurt squeezes his hand again. "I'd also like it if this weren't your only outlet."

Blaine tries to pull away at the sting of that, but Kurt's grip is firm. "You mean— going to a club?" He doesn't want to do that. His one experience with anything like that was Scandals, a gay bar back in Ohio, with Sebastian, and all he remembers is the regret and the hangover the next morning.

"Not a sex club." Kurt says the words with an odd delicacy. "Some sort of club would be good, though. Surely you have some sort of hobby that other people might share." A moment later he says, more quietly, "You sound like you need friends, Blaine."

Blaine is not going to start crying. He's _not._ "I…"

"You don't have to listen to me if you don't want to. I'm not saying this as a Dom or a top, I'm saying this as someone who likes you already and doesn't want to see you unhappy." Kurt picks up Blaine's hand and presses a gentle kiss to his knuckle. "Think about it. If you're having trouble, we can talk about it later. We can talk about anything you want to."

Blaine wishes people like Kurt existed in real life. He really, really does. "Right," he says, soft.


	3. Chapter 3

There's a tone in Blaine's voice that Kurt's not sure he likes hearing. He doesn't sound sad, exactly, but… Kurt rubs his fingers over Blaine's knuckles and hears a shuddery intake of breath. "It's just a suggestion," Kurt murmurs, because it's true; while he wants to take care of people, wants to take care of _Blaine_ right now, he doesn't know Blaine's situation. He can only listen and be reminded with painful clarity of his years in middle school, in high school, aching to fit in and be accepted and never quite managing until the very end.

"Yeah," Blaine says, just as softly, and Kurt can't tell if it's agreement or just another way to get breath out of his lungs. Blaine sways a little, and his eyes flick up to Kurt's face and away, then back. Like he's asking permission. Kurt hesitates, confused, then nods, because he can't imagine that Blaine would overstep any boundaries that Kurt couldn't enforce right away. And sure enough, all Blaine does is drop forward, resting his forehead against Kurt's shoulder, and Kurt's heart grows in his chest rapidly enough that it hurts. He wraps his free arm around Blaine and just holds him.

When Blaine's breathing steadies again, Kurt gives in to temptation to press a brief kiss to Blaine's head. "Listen," he says, because this is important, too. "I want to have your ID, too, if you're comfortable with that. Or an email, or something. I'd like a way to contact you in case something unavoidable comes up, so that you won't feel…" He trails off. Lost, alone. Abandoned. Kurt can't put a shape to a word that means he doesn't want Blaine to hurt.

Blaine pulls back, a small crease between his brows. "Like maintenance?" he asks, and Kurt blinks, confused. Before he can ask for clarification, though, Blaine is shaking his head and making the familiar gesture to pull up a keypad. Kurt wouldn't be able to see what he was typing even if he looked, but he looks away politely anyway. On Blaine's triumphant, "There," Kurt hears the faint ping of an incoming message and smiles warmly at Blaine.

"Thank you," he says. "I'm sure you have things to do—"

"Oh!" Blaine startles and pulls back, a wide smile spreading across his face that's at odds with the vulnerability he was broadcasting earlier. Kurt blinks. "Of course. Thank you, Kurt." Before Kurt can open his mouth to remind Blaine to take care of himself, to say that they'll set up another scene through message, Blaine is gone. Kurt blinks out into the empty room, the abrupt exit jarring through him like a sour note until he realizes that Blaine took that as a dismissal.

He sighs and disconnects from the headset to move into stretches while he composes a message in his head. It's probably a terrible sign that what he feels is a dull sort of sympathetic ache in his chest for Blaine instead of annoyance like it would be for most people. After he's done writing and has sent the email off, he slips on the headset again to get Blaine's contact information— it's an email, which banishes the rest of Kurt's lingering hurt; an email address seems far more intimate and welcoming than a SafePlay ID. And after he's taken care of _that_ , he moves into the kitchen with a lighter heart, letting his mind drift to planning out the scene, instead. He thinks he should be able to come up with something that they'll both enjoy.

* * *

The day after their talk, Blaine checks his email and his breath catches when he sees a message from Kurt in the inbox. His first thought is that he messed up somehow, without even realizing it, again, but it only takes a second for him to realize that they never set a date for their next scene, and he hangs his head and laughs at himself. Kurt isn't always going to be available— he made that clear enough last night.

> _Dear Blaine,_
> 
> _You left rather abruptly, which I realize is the problem with VR; there's no physical body to stop when a misunderstanding occurs. If that wasn't a misunderstanding, I won't bother you again after this email, but I believe it was. I didn't mean for you to leave so fast, and I would very much like to set a date for that scene. Would November 24 be a good day for you? That should give you time to rest and recover from any Thanksgiving overindulgence. Let me know what times would work for you._
> 
> _XO, Kurt_

Blaine's hit reply and is typing before he's even finished reading the email. _I'm very sorry about leaving so soon. You're right, that must have been a misunderstanding, because I definitely want to scene with you again. November 24 would be great. Would 6pm be a bad time?_ He hesitates, then sends before he can lose his nerve. It'll mean eating dinner earlier than usual, but he wants a long, uninterrupted evening with Kurt. He can't imagine anything better right now, and if that makes him pathetic, well, he's okay with that.

After he's done, Blaine shoulders his bag and heads for NYADA's extensive library. He's not crashing like he did earlier; he still feels buoyed by Kurt's words, by the feeling of a hand in his, by the memory of Kurt tying him down and touching him. He gives the librarian his most charming smile, which she returns, and heads over to the bulletin board which is used exclusively for physical club advertisement.

He did this before, when the semester started. Most of the fliers are still the same, endless groups of performers because that's what NYADA's _for_. Performing is in their blood the same way it's in Blaine's. He rakes his eyes over the familiar papers and for a moment it's too much. He considers pulling out his phone and emailing Kurt again— telling him that there was nothing new, that Blaine can't live up to expectation, that he's failed again before he even tried.

But even though Kurt's programmed to be unfailingly understanding of Blaine's failures, Blaine wants this, too. He tried one of the a cappella groups, because it seemed like the logical place to start, but they were new and not very well organized, and they crumbled to infighting within the first three weeks. Blaine tried to be an example of patient verbal conflict resolution, as endorsed by Dalton, but the only thing it got him was ignored. NYADA students, he learned, are not as patient or tolerant as the Warblers. There are a few other a cappella groups still on the board, with various themes, but Blaine's not quite ready to look at them yet, so he moves to the other side.

Finally, he finds a flier he doesn't remember. It's an advertisement for a Geek Club, open to all but primarily focused on science fiction and fantasy. Blaine thinks of the half-finished superhero costume left over from before that dance, thinks of movie nights with the Warblers and that moment of relief as he realized he could talk about them and the only reaction he would get was knowing smiles and nudges like any of the others. Before Blaine can think better of it, he holds his phone up to scan the code. The phone beeps pleasantly, and the screen blinks into black on bright orange with names and dates and email addresses. On the side, someone's scribbled a stick superhero posing with a cape flowing behind them.

It can't be that easy. Blaine scours the board again, with renewed determination this time, and forces himself to pay attention to every single flier. He finds an a cappella group that he doesn't remember, half-hidden behind some others and on battered green paper. Despite its condition, it looks professional enough, and the hook is that Tonal Dissonance is an all-male group performing songs written by women. It strikes enough of a chord that Blaine scans that one, too, and after that he scans a few more random groups just for variety.

Blaine doesn't head home immediately after that; it feels like he's taken a step towards something undefinably _good_ , so he celebrates by stopping in a coffee shop and treating himself to a drink and a session of people-watching. He doesn't want the dimly-lit dorm room to remind him that he's not actually flying.

* * *

 _I won't be there until 6:10,_ Kurt's final message read. _I want you to be there by 6:00 and pick out any one thing from the drawers that you feel you absolutely need for the scene. Only the drawers; don't add any of the other supplies. Whatever you pick out is going to be the only toy we use. Once you've done that, you can do anything you like to make yourself comfortable before I arrive._

So here Blaine is, staring down into the drawer, feeling like a kid in a candy store. He finds the rope that Kurt used and reaches out to touch it before pulling back. He's a little scared of what happened before, and Kurt is safe, but… He pushes it to one side to think about and goes through the other toys. The cuffs seem safer, and Blaine actually pulls out the paddle to slap his arm very gently before setting it back inside. There's a flogger, as well, and a crop, and a long, thin bar with hooks on either side. All of them are marked as changeable.

Blaine closes that drawer and moves on to the next. This one is apparently the sex drawer, and Blaine actually has to sit down hard because _oh_. There are all sorts of toys, butt plugs and dildos and vibrators and a tiny side bin of lubricant. Blaine picks up one, because he's curious, and realizes that it's not _just_ lubricant; there's one container marked with a label that reads PLAIN and then the others… they're sensation. The one he's holding is HEAT/STING. There's also simple COLD and HEAT along with more complicated things like PLEASURE CENTER and one that's just labeled GINGER.

Slowly, though, he sets HEAT/STING down and picks up PLAIN. He wonders if plain lubricant counts as a toy; it's kinkier to go in dry, isn't it? Even in VR, which doesn't have any of the limits of real life, it would still sting, wouldn't it? Maybe not; pain stimulus tends to have very specific markers because not everybody wants their VR experience to be real, and even if SafePlay has more pain stimulus markers than most environments, there still have to be plenty of people who don't want pain every single time. Or at all.

Blaine turns the lubricant over in his hands before setting it down on top of the bed and closing the drawer. He likes how lube feels when he fingers himself, he decides, and this is what he really wants, more than anything, more than the idea of cuffs holding his wrists together.

Next he makes himself comfortable by taking off his shoes and kneeling on the floor with his head bowed and his wrists upturned as they rest on his thighs. It feels vaguely ridiculous getting into position, but once he's there, it's perfect; he feels vulnerable and ready for any command Kurt has to give him. It feels like he's already Kurt's.

By the time a hand brushes the back of Blaine's neck, Blaine's eyes are closed. "Well, hello," Kurt says, his voice warm and rich. Blaine breathes. "Look at me, Blaine. Say hello."

Blaine does as he's told, tipping his head back to smile up at Kurt. "Hello, sir," he says. The warmth from Kurt's voice drips into every corner of Blaine's soul.

"Tell me what toy you picked." Kurt's hand strokes over Blaine's curls, his fingertips scratching down Blaine's neck with each stroke. Blaine shivers, but doesn't close his eyes.

"On the bed, sir," he mumbles, and Kurt tugs on his hair.

"No, Blaine, _tell me_ what toy you picked." Kurt's voice doesn't lose any of its gentleness.

"Lubricant." And that jolts Blaine a little out of the strange mood he was in, because that's an awkward word to say. He ducks his head. "I— didn't know if that counted, but—"

"It counts," Kurt says. "I did say one thing from the drawer, didn't I?" He pats Blaine's cheek and walks over to the bed to sit down. "Take off your shirt and come here."

Blaine shivers and obeys, pulling off his shirt while he's still kneeling because he doesn't want to stand up in front of Kurt. He hesitates before moving towards the bed. Kurt made him stand up last time, but that's not what Blaine wants, not unless Kurt tells him to. Even though it's awkward, he crawls forward, only hesitating at the surprised noise Kurt makes.

"Well, look at you," Kurt says, and he sounds pleased. "You really like that, don't you?" Blaine doesn't think he needs to answer, so he focuses on getting up. He's not expecting Kurt to push him right back down. "No, if you like it so much on your knees you should stay there for a while. Color?"

"Green, sir," Blaine says immediately. He looks up at Kurt and gets a wicked smile as a reward. Kurt moves forward on the bed, unzipping his jeans, then stands and shimmies out of them inches from Blaine's face. Blaine's mouth goes dry for a brief moment before it starts to water, and he watches, waiting to be allowed to move.

Kurt takes off his shirt as well, and tucks his clothing into a neat pile on the chair with a care that Blaine wants focused on him. When he's done, he sits back down on the bed and spreads his knees just enough that Blaine could tuck his shoulders between them. "All right, Blaine," Kurt says softly, his eyes dark and fixed on Blaine's face. "Come here."

Blaine shuffles over the last bit and looks up at Kurt. Kurt nods and puts his hand in Blaine's hair to tug him gently closer, and Blaine lets his eyes close as he feels the pressure of Kurt's cock against his lips.

It _is_ different not being able to taste anything. Blaine thought he was prepared for it, but it's an uncomfortable jolt of reality like ice water in his veins as he licks eagerly and isn't rewarded by anything but pressure and Kurt's hand in his hair. _This isn't real._ But, no, that's not right; this _is_ real, just not the way Blaine's used to. He pulls back to blink off the worst of the feeling before sliding his mouth around Kurt's cock and listening to the soft sound Kurt makes as he does.

This is real. Maybe he's not doing this to a real person, in a real place, but this is something Blaine is feeling. These sensations belong to him, and he's going to do the best he can to make Kurt happy.

"Blaine?" Kurt says, and for a moment he sounds almost hesitant. Then he tugs on Blaine's hair, pulling him away, and his voice is back to normal. "Blaine, color."

"Green." Blaine shifts a little, impatient with the interruption now that he's talked himself through it.

Kurt's eyes search his face for a moment before he nods. "Keep going," he says, and the steel in his voice is all Blaine needs to lean back in and lose himself in the task of giving Kurt the best blowjob ever. He doesn't have to worry about a gag reflex here, so he tries deepthroating and is immediately rewarded by a gasp and a "Good boy," like Blaine is a dog.

Blaine shivers all over, everywhere except his mouth, which he holds still so that he won't accidentally scrape his teeth on Kurt's length, and heat floods through him. He can't taste, but he can feel the weight and girth of Kurt on his tongue, he can feel all the familiar contours and textures that make it so different from a toy. He can feel the way Kurt moves against him, the slow drag and quick jolt of Kurt's hips, and Blaine relaxes into it as Kurt starts to fuck his mouth.

He feels strange, floaty and content by the time Kurt makes a different type of noise and pulls Blaine's hair back enough that Kurt's cock slides free. Blaine's mouth feels _empty_ , and when he swallows he can't taste anything but his own mouth. He whines and leans a little into Kurt's thigh in a way he'll be embarrassed about later.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay." Kurt's still hard, and Blaine wants so desperately for this not to be VR, because he can't tell if anything _happened_. Kurt seems to sense this, or maybe he's just programmed to be this understanding anyway, because he says, "All right, stand up, Blaine," in a terrifyingly gentle voice.

Blaine obeys, and Kurt tugs him gently onto the bed, positioning him facedown again. It's just like last time, even without the rope, and Blaine makes a soft sound as he moves his hips into the bed.

"Spread your legs," Kurt says, and Blaine does. Kurt's fingers are slick and wet and warm, and this is so much better than having Kurt's cock in his mouth. Blaine's suddenly very aware of his own arousal as more than a sidenote, as Kurt's fingers circle around his hole without ever pressing in.

"Sir?" Blaine asks, then whines a little as Kurt presses a little harder but not _enough_. "Sir, _please._ "

Kurt hums above him and rests his other hand between Blaine's shoulderblades, his fingers spread and his palm warm. "Settle down, Blaine. Be good." Blaine stills instantly at those words, his heart pounding, and Kurt leans down to press a kiss to Blaine's lower back. "Just like that. You're so good. Let me do this."

On those words, he presses his fingers in, and it's the best thing Blaine's ever felt. It's just the right amount of slippery and wet and pressure; there's no muscle stretch, no nothing. Just the sensation of Kurt's fingers inside him. Blaine has to curl his own fingers in the sheets to keep from moving, and the effort is enough that he finds himself trembling.

Kurt chuckles breathlessly. "Does that feel good, Blaine?"

"Yes, sir!" The words tumble out of Blaine's mouth too fast, and he twists his head to look up at Kurt pleadingly. "Please, sir, I want more."

Kurt leans down and brushes his lips against the corner of Blaine's mouth. "All right," he says. "You're being very good, after all." And with that, he starts to slide his fingers in and out of Blaine. Blaine presses his face into the pillow and tries not to shift into the sensation. He almost succeeds, and Kurt doesn't stop when Blaine's hips lift a little so it must be okay.

He's dimly aware of the noises he's making and the words spilling out of him, mindless sirs and pleases muffled by the pillow. The only thing he's focused on is Kurt, the way Kurt feels inside him, the way Kurt moves so that his skin presses against Blaine. "Hips up," Kurt says, and his voice is rougher this time. Blaine obeys eagerly, moving himself back on Kurt's fingers at the same time, and Kurt's other hand closes around Blaine's cock.

"Oh," Blaine breathes, and then he's lost. Kurt might be giving him a thousand orders; Blaine can't hear any of them. Once he starts moving, he can't stop. He fucks into Kurt's fist, feels full and cherished and utterly debauched. When he comes, Kurt strokes him through it and keeps his fingers in place, and when Blaine is done, lying slumped on the bed trying to catch his breath, Kurt has an arm around him and _his fingers are still inside Blaine._

Blaine closes his eyes and pushes back against Kurt's fingers because he's not sure he can form words right now.

Kurt bites lightly at Blaine's shoulder. "Is that what you want?" His voice is breathless, amused, fond. Blaine could wrap himself in it, but instead he spreads his legs wider and manages to hitch his knees a little more solidly underneath himself. "All right, Blaine. You're being so good for me."

Kurt slides his fingers out gently, but Blaine still feels empty when they're gone. Kurt has to shift to position himself, and for just a moment he's completely gone, and Blaine is alone. Then he's back, his hands on Blaine's hips, his cock a firm pressure against Blaine's hole.

Blaine's already come, and somehow that's the best part. He feels every inch of pressure as Kurt rocks into him, slow and steady, making Blaine breathless with every movement. If he thought Kurt's fingers were perfect, Kurt's cock is beyond perfect, and when Kurt's in him all the way and starts up a real rhythm, Blaine feels tears well up in his eyes— his real eyes— with some breathless emotion that's joyful instead of sad. He feels like he _belongs_ , can focus on the way Kurt is moving, the way he gasps and shifts and doesn't say anything until his hips jump and he comes. "So good, Blaine," Kurt murmurs, his chest pressed up against Blaine's back and his hands moving an aimless pattern down Blaine's sides. Kurt's slow to pull away afterwards, too, and when he's done he turns Blaine around so that Blaine is pressed up against Kurt's chest, held and secure.

Cherished.

Blaine closes his eyes and loses himself in the feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt comes back to his real body with a small, disgusted noise. The one problem with using SafePlay is that the glorious feeling of having a sub trusting him and resting in his arms is immediately offset by the feeling of sticky, drying come in his underwear. He's tried it different ways— he's even tried going into VR naked, but that lead to a close call because Rachel has absolutely no sense of privacy, and he's uncomfortable leaving his body unclothed anyway. So these days he compromises and wears pajama pants and underwear that he's specifically designated for this purpose.

Still, it's no less disgusting as he peels himself out of it in the bathroom and wipes off with a washcloth. He knows a few Doms out there deal with the problem by leaving the scene immediately, as soon as they've come. But Kurt finds that sort of behavior reprehensible. If he's going to be responsible for another human being's safety and happiness, he's going to actually take care of them. As much as he loves ordering a sub down or tying them up, creating marks on their skin that bloom like flowers, it's the moments afterwards that he loves best, when they're boneless and spent and pliable. When Kurt can just pull them close and cherish that human connection.

He may be a silly romantic, but he's never met a sub who didn't like it just as much as Kurt does. And Blaine is no exception.

Kurt sighs and steps into clean underwear before heading back to his bed. Tomorrow classes start up again, and Kurt is going to be busy with juggling everything. It would be easier if Blaine weren't so sweet and earnest, if Kurt didn't mind putting their sessions on hold indefinitely. But uncomfortable underwear or not, safe VR practices or not, Kurt wants nothing more than to go back into VR and fall asleep with Blaine in his arms.

He's just set the headset and temptation firmly aside when Rachel peers around the curtain, her eyes looking distinctly raccoonish. Kurt takes a moment to be horrified, then another moment to realize that Rachel isn't wearing waterproof mascara, and she's been crying. He sighs. "Rachel…"

She sniffs. "I heard you get up. Don't try to pretend, Kurt, I am in need of a friendly shoulder to cry on and you're awake."

Kurt can't very well tell her that he's awake because he was busy having virtual sex with someone who is, technically, a stranger. But at the very least, he can move her away from the bed where said virtual sex took place. He stands and moves towards the couch. "I _am_ allowed to have an evening or two to myself, Rachel. Being a friendly shoulder to cry on got old after the first time." He pauses. "Actually, no, it got old _before_ the first time. Do you know how difficult it is to get bad makeup out of clothes?"

Rachel sniffs again, but she's glaring at him, so she can't be too upset. Kurt rolls his eyes and gestures at the couch meaningfully until she sits, then moves towards the kitchen to heat some soy milk. It's not really the same, but he's working with what he's got. "Kurt," Rachel says from the couch, "why do I always fall in love with men who are afraid of my greatness?"

Kurt makes a face at the soy milk. This is the last thing he wants to be doing right now. "I don't know, Rachel," he says. "Why do you?"

"Men are all afraid of ambitious women!"

"Which you're saying because I told you that the last three times you cried over Jamie." Kurt puts the soy milk back in the fridge without actually pouring any. This isn't what she needs right now. "Rachel, if you continue to let Jamie upset you this much, you won't be able to focus on classes."

Rachel's eyes narrow.

"At the very least, if you're going to keep being a mess over him, you could wear the makeup that I bought you for your last birthday, as it is actual quality and decently waterproof," Kurt adds. "Nobody besides me realizes that you're wearing the cheap stuff because _he_ bought it for you. I only know because you told me. Repeatedly. And, if I might add, the fact that he would buy you something so terrible is proof enough that he wasn't the right man for you." He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Rachel.

She looks back at him, her lower lip quivering, a picture of abject misery for a brief second before she brightens and claps her hands. "You're right," she exclaims. "Makeup isn't very obvious. My next ex-boyfriend should give me something else… Ooh, maybe a scarf! I could wipe my eyes on it, and it would be very tragic."

"I'm going to bed," Kurt says pointedly, and he walks away from her before he can protest the ruin of this hypothetical scarf. Nothing he says at this point is going to make any sort of dent anyway. Maybe this will be the moment when she finally writes her song and ends the mourning period for overly-lamented Jamie and stops honing her broken heart for use on the stage. A man can dream.

Still, the mood is ruined, and Kurt stares up at the ceiling for a good ten minutes before he picks up the VR headset and slips back into the room. It's empty, of course, but Kurt runs his fingers over the bed and imagines he can feel warmth from Blaine's body.

He allows himself precisely one minute of romantic fantasy before the melodrama of the situation starts to sink in. He snaps the set off again with a precise flick of his fingers and instead picks up his phone to email Blaine about the possibility of another scene.

* * *

Kurt's alarm goes off early the next morning so that he has time to get ready for classes. He doesn't have to do too much; his daily routine factors in enough skin care that he shouldn't look _too_ hideous if he ever has to roll out of bed and just go. But his hair, as usual, takes a while to tame into something fit for the public, and it's when he's in the middle of last-minute checks when Rachel comes in with a piece of paper and a troubled expression.

"I am _done_ talking about Jamie, Rachel," Kurt sighs.

"Jamie?" Rachel says, jutting her jaw forward a little. "I'm surprised and disappointed that you believe I'm still hung up on him. Kurt, this is about your future."

"My future," Kurt repeats. He's about to say something snide when old insecurities hit him right where he's weakest. Is the paper from NYADA? No, it can't be, unless Rachel is— "Is that my _mail_? Have you been going through my _mail_ , Rachel?"

Rachel doesn't seem to realize that the way she tilts her jaw out further answers the question loud and clear. "That isn't the issue."

"It's enough of an issue!" Kurt grabs the paper away from her and scans it. It's not NYADA, but there's no point in feeling any relief whatsoever. "Is this my— Rachel! Oh my god! The entire point of separate VR accounts is that we are affording each other some _well-deserved privacy_!"

"That's not important!" Rachel declares, her eyes wide, though Kurt feels it _very much is._ "Besides, they came in the same envelope, I can't be blamed for reading it."

"Oh, believe me, you can."

"The point," Rachel says, "is that you have been spending a lot of time on VR."

"Which is none of your business," Kurt says with as much false honey as he can summon.

"It is absolutely my business, Kurt, because you are my friend and roommate and fellow NYADA student." Rachel clasps her hands in front of her and looks at him with the same soulful earnestness that she turns on the meat section of the grocery store. "Do you know that people who spend too much time in VR can lose muscle tone? This could be affecting your ability to perform."

Kurt takes a deep breath and thinks of Blaine kneeling in front of him, open and trusting. He does not bite Rachel's head off, though it is very tempting and would be completely justified. Instead, he says, "Yes, that _can_ happen, if the person spends a lot more time in VR than I do and doesn't take the appropriate precautions. Which I do."

"You could lose your position at NYADA!" Rachel cries. "You're destroying your dreams for a world that isn't even real, Kurt!"

Kurt grits his teeth and looks in the mirror one last time before standing and smiling at Rachel without any warmth. "No. You know what? I don't have to listen to your delusions right now. I have class. We _both_ have class, and skipping is a lot more likely to jeopardize our careers than _spending time in VR._ " Rachel, in one of her very determined moods, apparently, grabs his sleeve. Kurt swats her hand away, his blood turning to ice. "Rachel, if you touch my clothing again, I will destroy everything you have ever loved. Don't think for a moment that I'm exaggerating."

"Kurt," Rachel says, and her expression is still set in a picture of earnestness. "I looked up SafePlay."

For a moment, Kurt can hear the rush of blood in his ears, can feel the helpless anger of being exposed and typed against his will… and then, abruptly, it's gone. That's not him anymore; before, he was powerless. Now, he's in New York. He's in NYADA; he works for Vogue VR. He may not have a steady sub at the moment, or a boyfriend without those dynamics, but he has Blaine. He has potential. He made all this happen by himself, and he's hardly going to let himself be undone by one of Rachel Berry's misguided attempts at helping. He steps past her and moves towards the door. "We're not having this conversation," he says, and this time all his calm is very real. "If you really looked up SafePlay, you've clearly educated yourself about stereotypes and have already realized that this conversation is entirely unnecessary. I'm going to class. If you'd like to join me, you're welcome to."

"Kurt!" Rachel protests, but she follows him out the door. She speaks in a furious whisper, her words carrying further than she probably intends, but not far enough that Kurt needs to take action. "I can't believe you're doing this to yourself! SafePlay is for people who _enjoy hurting other people,_ Kurt! You don't have to do something like that just because you're lonely."

"We're not having this conversation," Kurt reminds her, walking fast and avoiding eye contact. Of course she wouldn't bother to actually educate herself. She saw the paper and she reacted, just as she always does. He takes a deep breath of chilly fall air, feels it go all the way through and ground him.

Rachel's quiet for a few moments, but Kurt's well aware that she won't be stopped so easily. "This conversation isn't over," she threatens.

"It will be once you start minding business that's actually yours."

Rachel heaves an exaggerated sigh, as though Kurt is the one being difficult, and Kurt just keeps walking.

* * *

On Monday, Blaine throws himself into his classes with renewed determination and vigor. There's a dance move he can't get down, so he spends his time in one of the practice rooms, trying to get balance right so that he doesn't stumble on the next step. He doesn't linger over the fact that he gets some smiles and waves from people in his class but all of them stick close to other people instead of welcoming Blaine in. That's fine. He has a plan.

Tuesday is when Geek Club meets, and he ends up being the first in the room due to the fact that one of his instructors is out on unexpectedly early maternity leave and a replacement hasn't been brought in yet. Blaine fidgets, taps his feet against the floor and his fingers against his arm, waiting. His hair is slicked down to perfection. He has a smile ready. If they don't want him here, he'll be mature and leave without a fuss. He has plans and backup plans for his plans. He won't let himself be disappointed.

Five minutes go by before a long-limbed woman still in her practice leotard staggers into the room and collapses in the chair next to Blaine's with a melodramatic sigh. "Fuck," she says. "I hate Professor July's classes." She half-turns towards Blaine. "Do you have her?"

"I'm a freshman," Blaine says helplessly, a little caught off guard. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't total acceptance. "I… No, I don't have her."

"She teaches some freshmen classes." The woman shrugs. "She's probably not so bad if you don't have Rachel Berry in your class. Which I have for two years in a row. Fuck!"

Blaine isn't really sure what to say in this situation, so he just waits there for a moment. When it becomes obvious that she's not going to say anything else beyond muttering incoherently under her breath, he braves a question. "Is this where the Geek Club meets…?"

"Oh," the woman says. "Yeah. You're new?" She looks him over, then, _really_ looks him over, and Blaine finds himself sitting a little taller under her scrutiny, smiling his best smile. "I'm Jan. I thought it was weird that I wasn't the first one here."

"Blaine Anderson." Blaine holds his hand out, because it's polite, and Jan blinks but accepts it.

"Okay," she says decisively. "If you're new, you have to pass the entrance exam that I just made up this minute." She levels an accusing finger at Blaine, and his heart is in his throat for a moment before it starts sinking back down past where it should be. "I need a supervillain rivalry to compare Professor July and Berry to, and it can't be the Batman and Joker, because I've already done that one."

Blaine pulls on half-formed memories of comic books for a moment before he decides to just go with the obvious. "Doctor Doom…? He and Reed Richards were rivals, right?"

"Ooh, that could work," Jan says, and Blaine's heart climbs back up to resume its normal rhythm. "Something about how they're both so similar. That could definitely work. Not obvious, and yet obvious enough to not be completely obscure."

A man comes into the room just as she's saying that and rolls his eyes. "These meetings aren't your bitching sessions, Jan," he says wearily, and holds out a hand to Blaine. Blaine takes it. "Sorry about her. You must be new; I'm Clark."

"Claaark," Jan drawls. "Clark Kent runs Geek Club. How awesome is that?"

That rings a bell. "Clark Laird, right?" Blaine shakes his hand with a little more enthusiasm than he had with Jan. "I'm Blaine Anderson."

"It's nice to meet you. It's always good to have fresh blood. We're a fairly small group to begin with." Clark keeps talking, and Blaine relaxes back into his chair as Jan occasionally interjects. They have a nice relationship; they're clearly comfortable with each other, enough to tease, and they pull Blaine into that like it's nothing. This was a good idea, he decides. He'll have to thank Kurt later.

* * *

Blaine doesn't get a chance to tell Kurt in person. There's some maintenance being done on SafePlay's servers, and he finds out when he tries to log in. When he checks his email, though, there's nothing from Kurt, which is strange. He thought that was the whole point of emails. Still, he starts typing a quick message so that Kurt can process it as soon as the maintenance period is over. He tells Kurt that he's alright, that he's been taking care of himself and managed to get through the day, and that he really likes Geek Club. Tonal Dissonance is going to be more difficult, but that's tomorrow, and Blaine's going to do his best.

After he sends the email, he hesitates and then starts typing another email, this one to Wes. They exchanged a few emails, back when Wes first graduated, but then Sebastian arrived and things started to get more awkward with the Warblers, and Blaine didn't feel comfortable talking about that. It's his fault they fell out of touch, so he hasn't had the courage to start up again.

But when he imagines it, right now, he doesn't feel like hiding. He feels brave, like he can do this even if Wes doesn't write back, even if Wes says he wants nothing to do with Blaine anymore. Blaine feels like a better person with SafePlay, stronger. He wonders if he could have had this back in high school if he hadn't been so worried about his parents finding out.

It doesn't matter. He's doing it now, and that's what matters. He was right about what he needed, and it's such a relief to get. Kurt may not be real, but he's external to Blaine, and hearing those words, being able to be _good_ for someone, matters so much.

Before he can second guess himself, he's sent off an email to Trent, as well, because Trent knows about SafePlay and Blaine desperately wants to talk about it. He sits back with a lighter heart, humming under his breath. With nothing else to occupy his time, he finds himself fiddling with the headset and dreaming up new things he'd like to try with Kurt. The possibilities are limitless. _Blaine_ is limitless. He's safe and secure and everything is going perfectly.

This one time, he doesn't let himself worry about all the things that could possibly go wrong.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine isn't Kurt's sub. Kurt keeps reminding himself of that. Blaine hasn't mentioned anything. It hasn't been that long since they started scening. But they're not _just_ scening. Kurt keeps finding adorable emails in his inbox detailing Blaine's progress with making friends. It feels like Blaine is giving Kurt a window to his soul as he talks about rekindling old friendships from high school and confesses that he thought those friendships were lost forever. Kurt has to remind himself at multiple points that Blaine could be halfway across the country, could be _out_ of the country, that there must be a reason Blaine isn't asking about Kurt.

The one time Kurt does bring it up, in a check-up session that's turned into an intent discussion about Vogue and the branches that the VR should go, Kurt is half-hoping Blaine asks where Kurt gets all his insider knowledge. He offers to answer any of Blaine's questions, but Blaine just looks like Kurt slapped him out of a scene. He drops his gaze. He doesn't have any questions for Kurt. Kurt isn't going to push this because _Blaine isn't Kurt's sub._

But it's getting harder to ignore that Kurt would very much like him to be.

Four sessions later, all of them extremely vanilla, and Blaine is still everything Kurt wants out of a sub. Blaine is willing and eager to experiment, but he doesn't _need_ anything but the tone of Kurt's voice to get him down. He just wants to do what Kurt says, and Kurt's found that applies even outside of a scene. Once Blaine finds out that Kurt's interested in fashion— and, really, how else would his projection have such consistently stylish and unique outfits? Most people don't go through the trouble of scanning their own clothing, and Blaine is no exception— he starts asking for advice about what to wear.

Kurt is thrilled. Of course he's thrilled; he loves fashion, and he's happy to have someone who will not only take his advice but ask for it. But it's also Blaine, Blaine, who's so good for him, who forgets to be embarrassed and talks in a dreamy voice about all the kinks he'd like to try that he hasn't yet. Blaine who apparently _sings_ , since he got into some sort of a cappella group, but who hasn't sung for Kurt yet.

"He's perfect," he says to Mercedes during one of their VR meetups. She doesn't know the details, of course, not when Rachel still won't talk to Kurt without giving him meaningful glances, but she knows enough that Kurt can talk about this, because he _has_ to. "He's perfect, and half the time I think he's interested in being my boyfriend and half the time I think he's not."

Mercedes sighs. "You couldn't just fall for a boy at NYADA, could you?" She's appropriately sympathetic, and VR hugs are decent approximations of the real thing. Kurt lets himself savor the contact. "I don't know, Kurt, that's rough. It didn't work out last time, did it?"

"That was different," Kurt demurs. "We wanted different things out of the relationship. It wasn't as though we didn't have a relationship in the first place."

Mercedes is quiet for a long time. When she speaks again, her voice is almost too quiet to hear. "I don't want you to get hurt again."

Kurt sighs and tips his head to the side. "I don't want to get hurt again, either." But the problem with his heart is that he can't quite stop it from believing that Blaine would be worth the risk. Wonderful Blaine, who tries so hard, who's so very handsome. Kurt's heart has never been something he could control, not the way he controls everything else. And every beat of it sings Blaine's name.

* * *

Kurt comes into the fifth session with too much on his mind. Rachel left a pamphlet on the table about _abusive relationships_ , and Kurt knows that a confrontation is coming. He doesn't want to be angry for that; he wants to be calm.

Blaine is waiting for him, just as he always is. He's started taking his shirt off before he kneels, and he always looks relaxed and perfectly content like that.

"Hello, Blaine," Kurt says, and he brushes his fingers over the smooth curve of Blaine's neck. His world has already narrowed down to Blaine. "I'm going to ask you a question."

"Hello, sir," says Blaine, but he looks up, attentive, without being ordered to. Kurt resists the urge to touch Blaine's face; if he does, he won't stop.

"I want to tie you up today," Kurt says, and Blaine beams, all the emotion in his face spilling out for Kurt to see. "I want to tie you up so you can't touch me or move. You'll be completely helpless. And then I want to hurt you a little. How does heat sound?"

Blaine's breathing comes a little faster. His eyes are dark and wide and happy. "I'd like that, sir," he says, and he ducks his head again. He doesn't ask about the details.

Kurt studies him for a moment. There's a beauty in the silence as Blaine stays there and breathes. He waits; he doesn't push. Kurt can take his time and do things at his own pace. Blaine doesn't get impatient unless sex is brought into the picture. Kurt stays there for a moment longer and rests his hand on Blaine's head. "You're so handsome like this," he says softly. "But you'll look even more handsome all tied up for me."

Blaine makes a happy noise low in his throat and doesn't answer. Kurt smiles and strokes down the back of Blaine's neck before heading to the drawer. The default rope inside isn't the right color; Kurt has to take a moment to scroll through the paintbrush selections until it turns bright red. After a moment, he picks up another rope and makes it blue. The contrast will look beautiful on Blaine.

Blaine hasn't moved by the time Kurt comes back over to him, which deserves a reward. "So good," Kurt says. He smiles at the way Blaine's head moves towards him at the words. He's not quite sure Blaine realizes that happens and doesn't want to call attention to it in case Blaine tries to stop himself. "Do you think you can handle being suspended?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine says immediately, then blinks and looks up at Kurt again. "Wait— How?"

Kurt strokes his hair. "There's an antigravity function with limb immobilization. You can choose the pressure."

Blaine hesitates, and Kurt waits. It feels like the whole room's holding it's breath, then lets it out as Blaine nods. "I think I can handle that, sir."

Kurt smiles at Blaine, because how can he not? "I'm very proud of you for thinking that over," he says as he summons up the keypad to change the room settings. "Thank you, Blaine."

Blaine's smile is blindingly bright and so, so sweet. Kurt finishes the input and holds out the star-shaped device to Blaine. Blaine looks at it and holds out a hand to receive it, but he's clearly confused.

"Once you take this," Kurt explains, "I'm going to bind it to your ID. SafePlay's attempts at simulating real suspension devices is mediocre at best, but this—" Blaine looks down at the star with wide eyes, his expression close to hurt. He looks back up at Kurt, and there's something in his expression. "Blaine, color."

"Yellow," Blaine whispers, then hangs his head. "I'm sorry, sir, I want this to feel—" He flounders for a moment, and his shoulders slump. "Real."

"Okay," Kurt says, keeping his voice gentle. "Thank you for telling me, Blaine." He puts a hand on Blaine's shoulder and keeps it there as he calls up the keypad again to dismiss the star as he mentally rewrites the scene. It'll be more work to keep it realistic; Kurt's only ever bothered one time before, and that was his first attempt. After a moment, he calls up the suspension hooks that are capable of automatically linking with the cuffs and the rope and positions it in the middle of the room. "We'll try this instead. Tell me, Blaine."

"Green, sir," Blaine whispers, his voice thick, though Kurt isn't asking for a color. "Thank you."

Kurt rubs his shoulder and hesitates for a moment. The unwarranted amount of gratitude in Blaine's voice throws him off, and for a second he's poised on a precipice, ready to end the scene already. But Blaine's shoulder relaxes under Kurt's hand in a way that feels more natural, like he's sinking back into submission. Kurt's hit by a wave of desire that knocks him back into the scene. "Hands behind your back, Blaine."

Blaine obeys, his movement easy and loose. Kurt leans down to start the knots.

There's a rhythm Kurt likes to fall into where he's not focused on the knots. He pulls them slow and careful, checking each one as he goes along. Under his fingers he can feel the solidity of the rope and the smooth, warm yield of Blaine's skin. Kurt isn't tying Blaine up; he's creating a masterpiece of blue and red and Blaine's gorgeous golden skin.

Kurt stops when Blaine's arms and torso are bound loose but completely immobile. "Kneel up for me, Blaine," he says right into Blaine's ear. Blaine shivers and does so. Kurt slides his finger along Blaine's hips under the waistband of his jeans before pressing himself against Blaine's back to drag the zipper down. Blaine's breath goes uneven as Kurt unbuttons the jeans and starts sliding them down his legs, but he doesn't beg. He doesn't move. Kurt presses a kiss to the side of his neck and cups Blaine through his boxers. "Good boy, Blaine. Can you stand up for me? You'll have to lean on me."

More than that, he'll have to trust Kurt. Blaine won't have any way of catching himself if he stumbles on the jeans that are caught around his knees. But Blaine doesn't even hesitate; he leans back against Kurt and starts to shift his legs.

If Kurt were a cat, he would be purring right now. He's hard as he slides an arm around Blaine, over the diamond pattern of knotted rope, but all of his attention is for Blaine. Ridiculously perfect Blaine. Kurt keeps Blaine perfectly steady through one precarious wobble, then steadies him and slides down to get his jeans the rest of the way off. Kurt kisses his thigh and slides his hands up Blaine's bare legs. Blaine's muscles jump under Kurt's fingers.

"Down again, Blaine." Kurt stays behind him and lets his hands take Blaine's weight as Blaine kneels back down again. "You're doing wonderfully. Lie down all the way, that's it. Wonderful." He strokes Blaine's leg again, then bends Blaine's knee and brings it up to start the process of tying knots again.

When he's done, Blaine is tied from chest to ankle in a loose spiraling pattern, immobilized and steady. Each breath he takes presses out into the knots. Kurt runs the backs of his fingernails down Blaine's spine until he hits rope. "Color, Blaine."

"Green, sir," Blaine says, but it takes a moment. His voice is slow and dreamlike.

Kurt smiles down at the floor and pinches Blaine's skin, eliciting a yelp and hopefully more wakefulness. "You remember what we're doing? I'm going to lift you up."

"Yes, sir!" Blaine sounds more alert, now, and Kurt stands up to link the rope to the suspension.

The suspension system isn't at all accurate, and the in-between state of badly-feigned reality has always been offputting; as soon as Kurt links the two items together it shows him a screen that lets him pick what height he wants Blaine to be suspended at. He grimaces and chooses waist height before he dismisses the screen, hopefully before Blaine sees it and the illusion is shattered.

Luckily, Blaine just makes a soft noise as the ropes lift. His eyes are wide. "Oh, wow," he breathes.

Kurt can't resist. He leans in and kisses Blaine, gentle but firm as Blaine parts his lips to let Kurt in. When he pulls back, Blaine is panting audibly and trying to shift in midair. "Shh, Blaine. You're safe. Just relax. I've got you."

Blaine does. He goes completely limp, the only movement his breath, and Kurt is filled with a fierce delight. This is _his_. This moment is _his_. He moves to the drawer, keeping Blaine in the corner of his vision but focusing on the toys. There's a sensation play toy that can induce different sensations in the brain depending entirely on the buttons pressed, but Kurt discards that idea. Blaine's interested in something that can be done with real bodies. In the end, Kurt picks up a candle and makes the wax blue before lighting it.

Blaine's still hanging there, watching Kurt, trust written all over his face. The only movement he makes is to shift his head a little towards Kurt as Kurt walks over, as though Kurt is the North in Blaine's internal compass.

"Be good for me, Blaine," Kurt says. "You can scream if you need to, but don't move." He rubs a small circle on Blaine's skin in between the ropes, then brings the candle up and lets it drip.

Blaine nearly moves. Kurt can see it in the way all his muscles go tense all at once. Kurt doesn't push; he waits for Blaine to relax again. The wax is dry instantly, a splotch of color in between the lines of rope.

"Are you ready?" Kurt strokes a hand down Blaine's side, over his hip, soothing. "I'm going to give you more, Blaine."

"I'm ready, sir," Blaine says, and his reply is fast enough that Kurt smiles. "It feels strange."

"Yes, well." Kurt rubs another circle, drips another dot of wax. Blaine's reaction isn't so intense this time, but the sound he makes is beautiful. He sounds shocked, desperate and needy, and Kurt gives him another drip, and another.

Blaine is trembling again by the time Kurt's finished dotting up the sides of Blaine's spine. "Please, sir," he gasps out. "I need— you."

Kurt sets the candle down and crouches down to tug Blaine's hair back. If this were real life, he thinks, Blaine would be slick with sweat at this point. Kurt strokes Blaine's lower lip, and Blaine whines as he moves his head forward to take Kurt's fingers in his mouth and suck hard. "What do you need, Blaine?" he asks. "You need to say it."

 _"You,"_ Blaine says around Kurt's fingers, like it's all he can think of to say.

It's a heady feeling. Kurt closes his eyes and inhales through his nose, feeling better than he has in days. Calmer. At peace with everything. He straightens. "Blaine. Tell me what you need."

Blaine squirms for a moment, panting open-mouthed, and Kurt waits. Part of him wants to just _take_ , but as satisfying as it would be, making Blaine ask is better. So Kurt waits, keeping his hand in Blaine's hair, and when Blaine finally blurts out an awkward, half-formed, "Suck you, sir," Kurt's ready.

Blaine can't get any leverage, though he's suspended at the perfect height, but he strains forward anyway, trying desperately as he slides his mouth around Kurt's cock. Kurt watches Blaine, tied and decorated with wax, thinking nothing of his own pleasure as he tries to get Kurt off. This is what he wanted. Blaine's mouth is hot and wet and frantic, sloppy with the awkward position and Blaine's desperation, and Kurt's never felt anything more wonderful.

As amazing as it is, Kurt can't come like this. He stills Blaine's head and starts moving himself, thrusting all the way down Blaine's throat. Blaine whimpers and takes it like he was built for it. He's eager and willing and utterly at Kurt's mercy.

Kurt comes and has to take a moment to steady himself before he pulls out of Blaine's mouth and brushes his fingers over Blaine's belly. There's no erection, and he blinks. "Blaine?" he asks.

"I," Blaine says. "I, um, already came, sir." He says it so quietly that it takes a moment for the words to sink in, and when they do Kurt rocks back on his heels with the force of the desire he feels.

"All right," Kurt says when he's gotten himself under control. He doesn't think he's up for an actual round two, and he wants plenty of time with Blaine afterwards. "That was wonderful, Blaine, you were so good. I'm going to get you down, you're going to leave VR to get something to eat, and then you're going to come back. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine says, and he smiles up at Kurt so wide that his eyes crinkle up.

Kurt can't help it; he leans down and kisses Blaine again, his heart leaping at the moan Blaine gives. Kurt flicks his tongue over his lips when he pulls back, then starts the process to lower the suspension so that he can undo the ropes without breaking the fantasy. Blaine's still trembling a little, and when Kurt sits down and kneels next to Blaine's head, Blaine presses his face against Kurt's legs. Kurt undoes the ropes, steady and sure, staying careful. It doesn't take long, and when he's done, Kurt pulls Blaine into a tight hug. "You were so good," he murmurs. Blaine shudders in his arms and presses his face against Kurt's shoulder. "You have ten minutes to take care of yourself and come back."

"Yes, sir," Blaine says, and then he's gone.

Kurt takes a deep breath and tips his head back. He hates to let a sub run off for even that long, right after a scene, but this is VR. Kurt can't take care of a sub properly all on his own here in this space, and that's the point. Blaine needs to connect to his body again after the intensity of the pure brain sensation, needs to _feel_ that there aren't any physical strains or hurts. Kurt considers using those ten minutes to clean himself up as well. He weighs the idea against the prospect of Rachel cornering him again and decides to risk it. This scene was just what he wanted, just what he _needed_ , and he intends to spend as much time cuddling Blaine afterwards as possible.

Luckily for his good mood, there is no confrontation. The apartment is silent, and Kurt manages to get back into bed and the headset with clean underwear and time to spare.

Blaine comes back right on the ten minute mark, beaming the moment he sees Kurt and coming easily back into Kurt's arms. Kurt rubs his back. "Did you find everything all right?" he asks quietly.

"Yes, of course," Blaine says. He tips his face over onto the pillow. Kurt props himself up on his elbow to look down at Blaine and stroke his bare skin. "That was… amazing."

Kurt kisses him again, just a gentle brush of mouths this time. "You were perfect." What he wants to do, more than anything, is to run his hands over Blaine like he's checking him over in a real world scenario. He decides it can't hurt; Blaine did want realism. So Kurt does, checking the movement of each of Blaine's limbs as Blaine lies there, still pliant, looking more content than Kurt's ever seen him. Kurt presses a kiss to Blaine's palm. "You were so perfect for me, Blaine."

"It was incredible. _You're_ incredible," Blaine says, and then his face shutters up a little.

"Blaine?" Kurt cups Blaine's cheek, turning Blaine's face so that he can't look away. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Blaine says, and he presses his face into Kurt's hand. Kurt watches as the wall comes down again. Blaine is smiling again, a little more subdued but present again, with Kurt. "It's nothing, Kurt."

"Please don't lie to me." Kurt sighs and lies down next to Blaine, nuzzling their noses together. Blaine relaxes a little more. "You don't need to tell me everything, Blaine, but you need to be honest. If you don't want to talk about something, you can say that. But there's something."

Blaine looks at him, totally quiet, for a long moment. Then he surges forward, pressing his face into Kurt's neck and clinging. Kurt strokes Blaine's back. "I want to be the best for you," Blaine says, and he sounds like he's on the verge of tears. "I don't want to talk about it, I'm sorry."

Kurt kisses the top of Blaine's head. "You are," he says, because it's true; his heart wants Blaine to be _his_ with a bittersweet ache. "You're the best for me, Blaine. When you're ready, _if_ you're ready, we'll talk about it later."

Blaine cries a little and has to temporarily go back to his real body to clean up. By the time he comes back to finish out their time together, he's composed and relaxed again. It could just be the scene bringing up Blaine's insecurities again, Kurt tells himself, but some instinct in the back of his head is telling him that it's something else this time. He can't push. He _won't_ push. He just holds Blaine close against him and whispers endearments until their time is up.


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine loves Tonal Dissonance. He's not singing lead for their songs anytime soon, because they choose singers evenly by seniority, but that's okay with Blaine. They're professional during practices, and Blaine gets to sing the types of songs that he's missed ever since he left Dalton. And they take him in even though he's a freshman who joined up in the middle of the semester.

Blaine loves Geek Club. They're a small group of five steady members and a number of people who drop in when they have the time. They're close-knit and rambunctious and a little wilder than Blaine's used to, but they get him to spend money on a new VR MMORPG where he can design his own costume and run around pretending to be a superhero. He doesn't have much time to experiment in between classes, but he takes the time he can so that he has something else to discuss with his new friends.

Blaine loves SafePlay, but unlike Tonal Dissonance and Geek Club, he can't think too hard about why. He knows there are people out there who fall in love with AIs. But it's something to be laughed at and mocked, whispered and giggled about in hallways with friends. It's not something that's happening to Blaine. He's not _in love_ with Kurt, and if he has to tell himself this every time he starts thinking about how special Kurt makes him feel, that doesn't mean anything. It's the VR. It's the safety of the program. That's all.

The month before winter break is a blurry dream of contentment in a quantity Blaine's sure he's never experienced before. He plays his MMORPG, he has coffee dates with his friends in Geek Club, and he goes out for music nights with Tonal Dissonance. In between those excursions, he scenes with Kurt and comes back from each one vibrating with contentment.

It's not until the last few days of the semester that it all comes crashing down.

There's nothing in particular that sets it off. The scene the previous night was simple enough; Blaine stayed on the floor with his hands cuffed behind his back and did everything Kurt asked. There was nothing different about it. But Blaine wakes up the next morning and the first thought he has when he looks at himself in the communal bathroom mirror is _shouldn't I want more?_

It's been months. Kurt won't push Blaine away; he's an AI. And Blaine feels more confident in himself now. Kurt's been patient and gentle and kind every step of the way, and that's why Blaine chose an AI in the first place.

But Blaine wants more than just an AI Dom. He wants someone he can touch in the real world, who can do these things where Blaine can experience _all_ of it. He wants to taste his Dom, he wants to feel the ache in his body for days afterwards. He wants marks on his skin that he can see, that other people could see if Blaine let them. In Blaine's fondest, wildest dreams, he wants to come home someday to a house and be able to kneel whenever he needs it. He imagines coming home and leaning against his Dom's leg and being praised for his obedience. He imagines long fingers carding through his hair.

There's a restless feeling that crawls all over Blaine's skin and burrows into his stomach. Trent's given him the names of some local clubs in the area and some groups on SafePlay where Blaine could meet a real Dom without going through random selection. But Blaine still hasn't gone to any of those places. He doesn't want to. He wants all those wonderful feelings that a real Dom could give him, but he doesn't want them from anybody but Kurt.

And Kurt can't give him those things.

The unease doesn't go away as Blaine shaves and brushes his teeth. It doesn't go away as he seeks out his first new class of the day or sits through a long lecture on the history of the stage musical.

Blaine wobbles when he stands up, and his first thought is that he just needs some juice. He leaves the classroom and sits down on one of the benches outside before he digs in his bag for a box and pokes the straw in. It helps a little bit, and he tips his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He has a dance class next, and he doesn't want to do something stupid like pass out right in front of the instructor.

When he looks up, though, he sees the last person he was expecting to, and his stomach knots itself up again immediately.

It's _Kurt_.

Blaine thinks for a moment that he's imagining things. The door he's looking through doesn't have a very large window, and the man is on the other side of the room. He stands up and moves to get a better view, to disillusion himself.

It doesn't work. The man's eyes are fixed on the professor, but as soon as Blaine realizes what's going on he stumbles back and away before he gets caught staring like a creep. The man looks _exactly_ like Kurt, from his eyes to the line of his spine as he sits.

AI models aren't just created. People get paid to have their body scanned and used as a projection for all sorts of programs. Blaine _knows_ all this, knew all this before he ever went into SafePlay, and there's still something tight around his chest and an ache in his stomach. Kurt's model _goes to NYADA_. It feels like the worst wake-up call Blaine's ever gotten.

He goes through the rest of his day like he's stumbling through a thick mist. He almost doesn't go to Geek Club until he reminds himself that _Kurt told him to_ , and he doesn't let himself think about why that works. He must not be hiding his feelings very well— he gets a hug from Clark and a pat on the shoulder from Jan.

Blaine skips dinner. The idea of being surrounded by laughing students, of possibly seeing _Kurt's model_ again, makes Blaine want to curl up into a ball. So he goes straight to his room and stays there, eating leftover takeout from the mini fridge and making halfhearted notes on his homework.

At 8:30, Blaine's roommate still isn't home, and Blaine makes a decision. He takes out his phone and types as steadily as he can in between uneven breaths. _Kurt, this is Blaine. I really need you. Can I see you tonight?_

When he's done, he throws the phone down on his bed and buries his face in his hands. He doesn't move until his phone trills at him to let him know that he has a message.

> _Dear Blaine,_
> 
> _It sounds serious. My schedule is completely clear, and I'll be there as soon as this message is sent. Come talk to me._

Blaine stares at the message for a moment and _wants_ so much that he almost throws the phone down and leaves the room. But he's not going to back out now, and he needs this. He needs this more than anything, even if it's the last time he can bring himself to scene with Kurt.

He picks up the headset and puts it on.

* * *

Kurt isn't sitting in the chair when Blaine appears in the room. He's standing, concern written on his face, and when Blaine drops to his knees Kurt comes forward and kneels down as well, his hand light on Blaine's shoulder. "Blaine?" he says, and his voice is high and gentle. "Blaine, tell me what's wrong."

He's not _low enough._ Blaine leans forward to press his face against the floor, and Kurt's hand tightens on his shoulder.

"Oh, no. Blaine, I need words. Tell me what's wrong." Kurt's voice has steel in it this time under the worry.

This is what Blaine needs. He takes a deep breath and doesn't let himself think. He just obeys. "I've been bad, sir," he says to the floor. "I need to be punished."

Blaine listens to Kurt inhale. "Okay. Like we talked about, Blaine?" Blaine nods, because he doesn't trust his voice, and Kurt strokes his back. "Okay," Kurt says again. He gets up, and Blaine listens to him walk across the floor and open the drawer.

Kurt comes back, but he sits down next to Blaine again and puts a hand on his back instead of starting the punishment right away. Blaine feels himself start to get tense again. "Blaine," Kurt says. "I know you need this, and I'm going to give it to you. But I want to know why I'm punishing you."

No. No, no, no, Blaine can't think about that right now without his throat closing up. He shakes his head frantically. He's not even sure what he's trying to convey. That he doesn't want to say anything? That he can't? He doesn't want to disappoint Kurt, but he already _has_ , and right now everything is collapsing around the terrible feeling that he's failed someone else.

"Blaine. _Blaine._ " Kurt's voice snaps him back out. "I don't need specifics. I need you to think of a word or a sentence. I need to know what's going on in your head."

Blaine shakes his head again, less frantic this time. "I don't know, sir," he says, and his voice hitches a little. He doesn't cry. He's not going to do anything that could take him out of this scene before Kurt's punished him. "I need this." He takes a deep breath and looks up, holding Kurt's gaze until something shifts in Kurt's expression. Kurt nods, just a slightly tilted incline of his head, and Blaine lets his head fall back to the floor.

"Okay, Blaine." Kurt presses something against Blaine's shoulder, and then that's it. Blaine can still feel Kurt's fingers on him, but they're different, the sensation deadened by the way the device is linked to Blaine's ID. "Up. Strip, Blaine, you're not going to be clothed for this."

Blaine follows Kurt's orders and lies down across Kurt's lap, his hands flat across the bedspread. Kurt takes a deep breath above him and then the first stroke of the paddle comes down. It's not a hard blow; it's barely a blow at all. But the device that Blaine's wearing takes away all the pleasure that's usually tangled up in the impact, and Blaine feels tears start in his eyes. He lets them happen this time. This is what he deserves. This is how he's going to make it up to himself. To Kurt.

He can't think about Kurt's model when he's busy with the sensation of the paddle coming down against skin. He can't think of the million stories that man could have, none of them with a happy ending. He can't feel the guilt and shame of falling in love with a collection of someone else's compiled data. All he can think about is the pain, that brief stinging moment with no warmth afterwards.

"Blaine," Kurt says, and after a moment Blaine realizes that Kurt stopped after that first blow. He blinks. "Blaine, you need to count. I'm going to give you ten. You need to count." Even giving punishment, his voice is so sweet and so gentle. Blaine presses his face against the sheets and breathes wetly. "Blaine?"

Blaine manages to clear his throat enough to reply with a hoarse, "Yes, sir." He needs to be more involved in this. He can't make Kurt do all the work. They worked this out; he knows what's coming. "One." He curls his hands into fists and squeezes his eyes shut to wait for the next blow.

It comes, stinging and unforgiving, and Blaine chokes a sob before he can force the next word out. "Two."

He feels like Kurt is shaking him out of his skin, shaping him into a new person with each blow. Three and four follow in quick succession, but when the fifth hits and Blaine cries out, he feels pressure and warmth against his ass and realizes that Kurt has a hand over him. "You're being so good about your punishment, Blaine," Kurt says, his voice quiet. "Do you think you can last through the rest for me?"

Blaine nods fervently. He _needs_ to. "Four," he rasps out, and the next one falls. It's an alien hurt because it's so small, it comes from Kurt, and it's nothing but pain. Blaine curls his hands into fists and tries to focus on breathing. On counting.

By the time he's counted seven, there's an all-too-realistic sting and burn over his skin where the blows have been dealt, and still it's such a strange pain. There's no relief from it. Blaine is aware of his own tears only because of how thick they make his counting. Eight and nine are terrible, and Kurt has to wait longer and longer for Blaine to say a number each time. But Blaine does, and Kurt doesn't rush him. While Kurt waits, his hand moves against Blaine's skin, and even though it can't soothe with the device locked in place, it's a reminder that Kurt is there, looking out for him, being strong for Blaine so that Blaine doesn't have to be. Helping him get through this.

The last stroke is such a relief that Blaine yelps, "Ten!" almost simultaneous to the stroke itself, and Kurt immediately tears the device off. There's a confusing wash of _everything_ , like Blaine's brain can't tell what's going on anymore for a moment before it settles into a warm, throbbing sort of hurt that's so much more familiar. Blaine is crying full-out, but he doesn't make a move to switch off the headset, and Kurt doesn't tell him to. Instead, Kurt gathers Blaine up into his arms and falls back on the bed, presses lingering kisses to his jaw.

"You were so good, Blaine. You took that so well," he murmurs, and his voice shakes just a little. "You're going to be all right, sweetheart."

Blaine's heart takes a tiny jump at that endearment, at the warmth in Kurt's voice, but he can't feel guilty anymore, not right now. He feels dizzy with Kurt's approval and a little numb in between the pain. He feels tired. He wants to keep this feeling forever.

"Can you talk about it now?" Kurt murmurs after they've lain there for a while.

Blaine thinks about it and manages not to panic. But it's like prodding a toothache with his tongue, and he can't wrap his mind around words. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he whispers, because he _wants_ to be good for Kurt.

"Don't be sorry," Kurt says immediately, fiercely. "I told you you wouldn't have to talk about the things you didn't want to, and I meant it. I would like honesty, but I'm not going to pry. I'm just glad you came to me so that I could help you get through this. And I'm so proud of you."

Blaine chokes up again at Kurt's words and presses his face into Kurt's chest. "You're so good to me," he says, and he's not even sure Kurt can understand him with how garbled the words are.

"Shhh." Kurt presses his cheek to the top of Blaine's head. "Just take your time. When you're ready, I want you to disconnect and take care of yourself for as long as you like. You remember that it's going to feel worse than usual, right?"

Blaine nods, but he doesn't feel like disconnecting yet. He doesn't think he could let go of Kurt right now even if he _did_ want to. He stays there until the last of the pain has faded away, and Kurt stays with him, because there's nothing else that Kurt has to do.

When Blaine pulls away enough to see Kurt's face, he sees nothing but concern and affection. "I have to go," Blaine mumbles. "I have to finish my homework." He looks away from Kurt's face.

"Will you be free again tomorrow?" Kurt holds up a hand. "Not to scene. Just to talk. That was a very intense punishment, it's the first time you've been punished, and I want to make sure you're okay. That's it."

He sounds like he's speaking to a skittish animal. Blaine laughs a little. "I'm fine, Kurt," he says, and it's not a lie. He feels so much better. "But I can come back. And talk."

"Email me when you're done taking care of yourself," Kurt says, and this time his voice is firm. "I'll be waiting, Blaine."

Blaine's throat closes up again and he nods before disconnecting the VR. He comes back to himself with an unpleasant buzzing sensation that has to be an aftereffect of the pleasure neutralizer. His eyes sting, his nose is a mess, and everywhere he _should_ be hurting is nothing but an empty wasteland of sensation. He stares at the ceiling for a moment before looking over to make sure his roommate is still out.

Reassured, he pries himself out of bed and walks to the minifridge. He has to blow his nose before he drinks the juice, and, after a moment of consideration, he heads out into the hallway towards the lounge. There's a clunky old vending machine there that's been modded to accept swipe cards, and Blaine selects a fruit granola bar before swiping his.

He eats it there, in the lounge. Anyone could come by and see his red eyes and puffy face, but he doesn't care. Nobody does. He lets the calm get him through a hot shower, as well, and it's not until he's sitting there with his skin water-warmed and his hair clinging to the top of his head that he taps out that email to Kurt. _I took care of myself. I'm fine._

Blaine hesitates before sending it. In his mind, he can see so much more than that. _You make me feel so much better about everything. I wish what we had could be real. I'm scared that the punishment you gave me won't last and I'll feel terrible again._

He keeps it at those brief first two lines. Kurt doesn't need to know these things, and Blaine doesn't need to write them. He curls up in bed instead of doing his homework, and within seconds, he's asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The punishment helps. It really, really helps. Blaine wakes up the the next few mornings feeling relaxed and calm and ready to deal with anything that life throws at him. He meets with Kurt briefly and doesn't talk about what happened that day. He eats breakfast and goes to class and smiles at all his classmates and instructors, cheered further by the fact that they all smile back. He might not know exactly what he wants or where he's going in life, but he's getting there, and he can take his time. He gets a text from Cooper right before Geek Club meets and finds himself wondering if any of his meltdown was about Kurt at all. Maybe it was all about winter break.

 _hey blainey see u at christmas!!_ is all the text says, but it's a reminder that Blaine is going to have to go home and deal with his parents and Cooper. He's making progress here at school, but he feels like he's tried everything with his family short of acting out, and he doesn't want to do _that_. Blaine sighs and closes his eyes. He leans against the wall and thinks about Kurt, about counting strokes. It's better than counting breaths.

Blaine puts the phone away before walking into the room Geek Club uses for meetings. There's a bag sitting on top of the chair that he usually sits on, and he blinks. Jan's the only other person in the room. "Is this yours?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Nope. It was here when I arrived. You can move it or whatever."

Blaine picks it up and sets it on the floor, very carefully, before sitting down. The other members of Geek Club start to filter in, and eventually Clark claps his hands and starts to talk about his idea for a movie night.

He's outlining ideas for snacks— with Blaine pitching in to offer ideas as well, because more student functions should have veggie platters with hummus, and Blaine happens to know where to get _delicious_ pre-made veggie platters— when an unfamiliar woman pokes her head into the room. Jan immediately jumps to her feet. "Rachel!" she squeaks, her voice high and strangled. "What are you doing here?"

The woman— Rachel— blinks slowly at Jan. "Oh!" she says after a moment, her voice bright. "You're in my class! Have you seen my bag here? I thought I left it in this classroom, but it's very new, so I'm not discarding the possibility that it's already been stolen."

Blaine holds up the bag he found. "Is this yours?" he asks. He almost wishes he hadn't when Rachel's gaze darts to him with the speed and accuracy of a falcon swooping down on its prey.

"Yes! Yes, that is my bag." She comes over to take it and beams at him. She's standing just a little bit too close. "Thank you, but I don't believe I caught your name."

"Blaine Anderson." Blaine wonders whether he should tell her that he's not interested. He decides that would be too rude, especially in front of all these people, and holds out a hand instead. He can't _not_ smile at a new acquaintance. She accepts it; her grip is firm, and her eyelashes flutter at the contact.

"Rachel Berry," she says. "I know it's very forward of me, but you _are_ very good-looking, and since you are at NYADA we of course share the same interests. Perhaps we should go out sometime."

Blaine softens his rejection with a smile. "I'm sorry," he says, "but I'm gay."

"Oh!" Her enthusiasm doesn't dim. If anything, it _brightens_. "Well, Blaine, I have a roommate and friend who is also gay, and he's on the market for a boyfriend…" She trails off and looks at him, as though he's expected to fill in the rest himself.

Blaine hesitates. The other members of Geek Club are pretending not to watch, and the situation is horrifyingly awkward, but for a brief moment Blaine is tempted. He's never really had a boyfriend, but— no. It wouldn't work out. It's never worked out before, and Blaine couldn't have a boyfriend _and_ SafePlay. It's not as though a strange woman's unknown roommate is going to be into the same things that Blaine is. He shakes his head. "I'm really sorry," he says.

Rachel sighs heavily, her expression fading into wistfulness. "I suppose it was too much to hope for that you would be single," she says sadly. "It would have been very poetic, meeting the perfect man here at NYADA." She twirls on her toes and heads back out of the room before she stops in the doorway, walks back to Blaine, and holds out her hand palm up.

"Um," says Blaine, looking around at the others for help. Jan makes a face and shrugs. The rest of them avoid his gaze. "What?"

"Your phone," Rachel says imperiously. "I know that asking for your number would be in bad taste, but I am going to program my number into your phone so that you may contact me if you change your mind."

That doesn't really seem like something most people would do, but when Blaine looks pleadingly at Jan she just rolls her eyes and mouths, "Just do it." Blaine pulls out his phone and watches carefully as Rachel takes a picture of herself and programs her number in. She doesn't try to look at anything else, and she hands back his phone with a flourish once she's done.

"Oh my _god_ ," Jan says once the door's closed behind Rachel. "See! See! She's always like that!"

"She was just looking for her bag," Blaine says. "She seems nice enough."

Jan sighs. "She's just weird," she admits. "Which, okay, I get it, glass houses. But once you get her and Professor July in a room together it's like dropping sodium in water. Or locking two angry cats in a room together." She rolls her eyes and holds her hands up.

Blaine looks down at his phone just in time for another text from Cooper. _im gonna pick u up at airport!!_ He sighs, deletes it, and gives Clark an apologetic grin. "Sorry, where were we?"

* * *

"Kurt!" Rachel trills when she walks in the door. "I met the perfect boy."

"Good for you," Kurt says. He's not really paying attention; he's going over a coding list for some of the new VR designs that are being imported. It's busy work, but it's important. He might also be planning a scene for Blaine in the back of his head, but he's hardly going to tell Rachel that.

"For _you_ ," Rachel adds importantly, and she sits down next to him on the couch. "I—"

Kurt holds up a hand. "I'm not your project, Rachel," he says. "I'm not in need of anyone's help, and I don't need to be reformed."

"But Kurt—"

"No." Every muscle in Kurt's body wants to tense up. He stands. "If you're going to do this, I'll leave."

She heaves an exaggerated sigh. "I care about you, Kurt," she says, and just because she means it doesn't make what she's saying any less vile. "I want you to be happy."

"I'm very happy. I'm very happy when you're not making woefully uneducated comments about _my life._ " Kurt shakes his head and snags his coat. "If you can't trust me, then that's a different matter and one we should explore when I'm not busy."

Rachel actually closes her mouth and doesn't say anything, but Kurt's not willing to stick around and see if his words had any impact. He opens the door and steps out into the cold winter air. He walks until he comes to a coffee shop, one he hasn't been into before, and as soon as he has his coffee he takes out his phone and impulse dials his dad.

"Hey, Kurt," his dad says. There's background noise from the shop, but it moves away. "What's up, buddy?"

Kurt sighs. "Rachel and I are having a disagreement," he says, which is a terrible understatement, "in which she wants to set me up with a boy from college because she doesn't approve of the man I'm _actually_ interested in dating, who she has never met."

His dad is quiet for a moment. "Are, uh… you and Rachel interested in the same guy?" he asks.

" _No,_ " Kurt snaps, then takes a deep breath. He's more on-edge than he'd realized. "No, like I said, she's never met him. She just has this… ridiculous image in her head of what our relationship must be like, because I… I met him on VR."

It feels like stepping off a cliff. He's never said so much before, had only brushed off questions about where he'd met John. And it's not as though Kurt has any illusions that Blaine will suddenly rethink his stance and want to become official. It's not as though they'd necessarily be able to meet up in person even if they did. But he's tired of being judged for this sort of thing, and he needs this honesty as much as he needs someone to take care of.

"Okay," his dad says. "You know people on VR aren't always who they seem like they are, right? People can pay for modifications or get someone else to scan in…"

"I know," Kurt says, rolling his eyes even though his dad can't see. "I don't need any explanations about how this is bad for me."

"That's not what this is." His dad hesitates. "Look, you're a smart kid. You know what you're doing. But I'm your dad, okay? I'm going to worry about you because that's what I'm supposed to do."

Kurt dabs his fingers under his eyes just in case. "I love you, too, dad," he says.

"And I don't want you to get your heart broken again. You deserve to be happy, Kurt."

"I'm happy," Kurt says immediately, because it's true, and he's tired of people worrying about him when Blaine is the one who's so new to all this. "It's all right, I'm not expecting anything. It would be fine if Rachel stopped insisting on butting in, as though she has any right to dictate my love life when hers is such a disaster." He taps his fingers against the table. "In any case, I'll have a break from her at Christmas. I'm looking forward to that."

"What, you're not excited to see your family?" his dad teases. "You just wanna get away from Rachel for a while?"

Kurt sighs. "I think at this point I'd buy a plane ticket just to escape for a while," he admits, fiddling with the lid to his coffee. "I am _not_ interested in her misguided attempts at matchmaking. Can you imagine the kind of man she'd find suitable?" He shudders. "He would have no sense of personal style, for one."

His dad chuckles. "And, hey, Kurt," he says. "I know you don't want me poking my nose into your love life, either, but you brought him up so I figure you might be okay with me having an opinion. That guy you like… talk to him."

"I do," Kurt says, blanking for a moment. He and Blaine talk about _everything_ , every scene and punishment and what horrible new reality shows are springing up and Blaine's bizarre fixation on superhero costumes. They talk plenty.

"About your feelings, Kurt," his dad clarifies. "I don't know, I'm not you, but it sure doesn't sound like you have."

Oh. "I don't want to push him," Kurt says softly. "I'd rather just keep being his… friend. I'm helping him this way." The idea of not being able to take care of Blaine anymore is a little like not being able to breathe. Kurt grimaces.

"I bet he can handle it," his dad says, and his voice is gentle. "Look, I'm not an expert. I wasn't sure I wanted you dating when you went off to New York. And then you met John, and I thought, maybe that would be okay, I could handle it—"

"—And then he wouldn't come out to Lima to meet you," Kurt finishes. "I know this story, Dad, I was there. It was a stupid mistake, and it won't happen again." He's tired of the way people bring it up, like Kurt never had a hold on John's heart. He knows very intimately how untrue that is, and he's made his peace with the way things fell out.

"That's what I'm worried about." Kurt blinks. "I don't know, I'm not there, but I don't want you thinking you haveta give up on love because one guy wasn't interested in it. People are pretty tough, Kurt. You _and_ this new guy. I bet he can handle it if you tell him. I'm not gonna be the person who tells my kid to stop dating because he met one bad apple."

"You're going to make me cry in a coffee shop," Kurt says with a little laugh. He feels like some of the wind's been knocked out of him. "Dad, you haven't met Blaine. It's a little more complicated than that."

"It's always complicated with you." His dad sounds amused and fond, and Kurt does actually have to blink back tears. "Look, I gotta get back to work. We can talk about this more when you get home—"

"—Or not!" Kurt says quickly. "We could also _not_ talk about it."

"Just promise me you'll think about it."

Kurt closes his eyes. "I will." He feels warm from the inside out, and he doesn't think it's just the coffee. "Thanks, Dad."

* * *

>   
> _Warbler Blaine,_
> 
> _Guess who's going to be in NYC for a few days over Winter Break? My aunt's invited me to spend some time with her, but she goes to bed early and doesn't mind if I go out with friends while I'm visiting. So I thought maybe I could come visit a club or two with you, since you haven't gone yourself, and I'm pretty interested in checking out the NYC life._
> 
> _No pressure, of course. But it would be a great way to meet some RL people, and I promise I wouldn't let anything too bad happen unless you really wanted it ;) And I'd really like to spend time with you again. How about it? Are you going to be back in NYC in January?_
> 
> _Warbler Trent_  
> 

The email is sitting in Blaine's inbox when he gets up the first morning of being back in Lima, and he blinks at it for a few moments. It feels strange, sitting there in his parents' house (not his, not anymore) and casually reading about potential forays into BDSM clubs, and he has to close the email and shower before he can process what it says.

It sounds appealing, more appealing than any of the links or names Trent's dropped casually into conversation. It's one thing to go to a club by himself, where he would have to be _looking_ for something; it's another to go with a friend. And Trent's not just any friend; he's a friend who was open about his interest from day one. In one of his emails, he confessed that he'd never really been vanilla, even before he knew what any of it meant. He's lived and breathed BDSM in a way that Blaine hasn't yet.

Blaine thinks of Kurt for a moment, thinks of asking him for permission, but it's a fleeting impulse. Kurt would encourage him to go, of course, and it would feel ridiculous somehow to ask permission to get a life. So he doesn't— he types out an affirmative response and asks what days Trent is going to be in the city.

> _The 5th to the 11th, but the 7th and 8th I have family things. How about the 6th or the 9th? Meet up for dinner and then take in the sights? I have a whole list of possibilities that I need to narrow down._

Blaine laughs to himself. _Don't you have a girlfriend right now?_ he asks.

> _Yep, we've talked about it. She's not really interested in pain, and I miss scening outside of VR, so I'm allowed to find a playmate for the night if you don't mind. Don't worry, I'll make sure you find someone, too. We can be each other's safe calls!_

Blaine can't really imagine a relationship like that, where one person is allowed to and maybe even encouraged to find other partners to play with, but it's not his place to judge. It's just that looking at the words laid out there so casually make his chest hurt. He doesn't know those sorts of things about Kurt. How does one judge the fidelity of an AI? Did Kurt already exist, created for someone else and recycled for Blaine, or does he only exist when Blaine is there, kneeling in front of him?

He thinks about letting Trent find him someone real. His throat tightens.

He shakes his head and replies. _It's okay, you don't have to do that. I can take a cab home if I need it._

 _It's alright if you find a real Dom you know! ;) It's so much better than SafePlay, Blaine, it will_ blow your mind _. The AIs are okay, but it takes a real person to connect with you._ is Trent's reply, and Blaine doesn't reply. There's nothing to say to that that wouldn't feel needy and overdramatic, so he leaves it. He doesn't feel disconnected from Kurt. He's happy with the way things are. Right?

"Blainey!" Cooper bellows, and Blaine has just enough time to close the email before his room is invaded by his brother. "There you are! I need someone to read lines for my next audition." He actually points at Blaine, even though his eyes aren't quite focused, which means there's little chance of getting out of it without a fight. Cooper's already in-character.

Blaine sighs but holds out a hand for the script. He's trying. _They're_ trying. It's easier, somehow, now that he has New York and SafePlay and all of the things he so desperately wanted when he was in high school and it felt like nobody he loved would ever see _him_. He _wants_ to be Cooper Anderson's little brother in addition to his own person. So he reads the lines with as much enthusiasm as he can summon, though he'd be able to summon more if Cooper weren't completely ignoring all of Blaine's inflections in favor of his usual yell-and-point strategies that Blaine's grown to despise.

Still, at the back of his mind, he's all too aware that he's going to have to make a decision once he gets back into NYC. And whatever the answer is, it's not going to be what he wants. Life just isn't that simple. But he's going to try to make the most of it anyway.


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine throws himself down face first on his bed as soon as he gets back from the airport. The flight back was terrible. There were _two_ crying babies, which should be against the rules of the universe, and the flight itself was delayed. The end result is that even though the trip itself was short, Blaine feels like he's spent the entire day on edge. He just wants to sleep, but everything is knotting itself up in his chest, waiting for him to relax. A nap would be a terrible idea now.

What he wants, what he wants more than _anything_ , is to email Kurt and set up a scene. Kurt would reply, the way he had with Blaine's punishment, and he would take Blaine down and work him until he could sleep. But every time he looks at his email, he sees Trent's, and he closes back out before sending Kurt anything.

Blaine pushes himself up and considers his other options. He's at a loss; he doesn't want to go into VR at all, not if he can't see Kurt. He stews for a few moments, then does a quick search. It turns out there's a boxing gym right near his favorite coffee shop, run by a woman, that sounds friendly enough. Just thinking about it makes his head hurt less, so he packs up a change of clothes and heads out.

The woman who runs the gym is white-haired and lean, with a look in her eye that makes Blaine think she could take him out in one hit if she wanted to. But she smiles at him, and he relaxes a bit. There's a good atmosphere, and the other people there don't bother him as he settles into the rhythm of his fists and the heavy bag. Before he knows it, he's tired and drained and utterly satisfied with the endorphins rushing through him.

Blaine leaves the gym feeling more presentable than he did before his workout, freshly showered and in clean clothes, with his hair slicked back and his skin hot. He ducks into the coffee shop to grin at the barista. He's relaxed as he waits for his order, boneless and perfectly content until he glances out the window and every tired muscle in his body tenses back up. He hasn't let himself think about this, not too much, because Cooper's attempts to not demean Blaine in front of their parents almost always end in failure, because their parents are still stilted and awkward when they talk about the few hobbies Blaine has that he can trust them with. But here Blaine is, back in NYC, and here _Kurt's model_ is, sitting outside despite the chill in the air, looking… sad.

Blaine's order comes up, and he takes it with only a single glance before he finds his eyes drawn back to Kurt's model. Blaine's chest is tight, but he can't look away. Kurt's model is wearing the sort of expression that Kurt never wears; Kurt is built to be a consummate Dom, all his attention focused on Blaine. Kurt never looks weary or resigned or _lonely_. Blaine's heart flutters oddly in his chest. He wants the man to smile, for that crease between his brows to go away.

Kurt's model keeps looking out at the street like he's waiting for something— or someone— so Blaine lets himself sit down in a corner where he has a good view through the glass. At this angle, it's unlikely that the man would turn enough to catch Blaine staring, so Blaine stares. He catalogues every movement as knives he can use against himself. It's not fair; Kurt's model is as unfairly attractive as Kurt himself, maybe moreso, even with the cold wind bringing red to his pale cheeks.

This is what Blaine can't have. He tells himself this, because there's no point in trying not to think about it now. This doesn't feel unreal; it feels _real_ , like he's coming up out of a long sleep. The coffee on his tongue is just the right amount of bitter, the ginger cookie just the right amount of sweet. This is the truth: there is no Kurt. Blaine sighs and picks at the cardboard around his cup as Kurt's model shakes his head slightly and stands, looking up at the sky for one moment before walking off down the street with his hands in his pockets.

Blaine's caught by the urge to run after him for a moment to say— something, anything. But he doesn't. He's felt this before, with Jeremiah, with Eric, and he's learned his lesson. He stays there, instead, finishing his coffee and thinking about nothing in particular.

When Blaine takes out his phone, he doesn't know what he's going to do. He opens a new email and sits there, staring at it. He could still send a message to Kurt. He could still ask. SafePlay is a warm blanket, and Blaine could stay there as long as he likes. But this is the second time he's run into the model. It's too much. Blaine can't fall in love with Kurt when Kurt's model is right here. So Blaine addresses the email to Trent, instead.

> _Hey, I'm back in NYC. Can't wait to go to that club with you! I'm really looking forward to seeing you again._

Blaine gets back an immediate _Me too! :D_ from Trent and puts his phone away. He throws his coffee cup away in the recycling bin and leaves the shop without looking around to see if Kurt's model is still in the area. He goes straight back to his dorm. He has work to do.

* * *

Kurt comes back to the apartment with his shoulders high and his mouth set. "Rachel?" he calls.

"Yes?" Rachel looks up from the couch and bounces up and over to him. "Kurt, you're back!"

Kurt got back into NYC yesterday, but he holds still and lets her hug him. "You do realize that I was only going to get coffee, right?"

"But I worry—"

Kurt claps his hands together. "Okay! You can stop there. We're going to have a talk, Rachel." He looks around, then sighs and sits down on the couch next to her, angling his body so that he's looking at her face. "Since you're clearly not educating yourself, this _one time_ I am going to let you use me as a resource. And I still won't be answering any of the very offensive questions I know you have, so please stick to the basics."

Rachel blinks at him, then frowns. "I don't understand, Kurt."

Kurt breathes deeply. "BDSM, Rachel." It sounds strange, said aloud like that; he keeps going before he can dwell on it for too long. "You have all these ridiculous ideas in your head about what SafePlay is, and they are getting very, very tiresome."

Rachel's eyes light up alarmingly. "You're going to listen?" she exclaims.

This is going about as expected. "No!" Kurt says, just as bright as her. "No, more the other way around, actually!"

"But _Kurt_ ," she says. "Just because you were bullied doesn't mean that you need to… do this. I'm sure you could find a boy who would love you for being strong and independent and—"

Kurt holds up a hand. "Stop. Stop. Okay, what I'm getting from this is two things. Firstly, you are _actually_ coming in and making the most offensive assumptions possible for the worst reasons. Again. And secondly, you are coming in and making the most offensive assumptions possible _about me_ for the worst reasons." He knew this would happen, but that doesn't make it any easier to hear. She's sitting there and calling Blaine weak, when he's strong enough to know what he needs and how to ask for it. She's sitting there and calling _Kurt_ weak, because he doesn't fit her ridiculous standards. "Rachel, do you seriously think SafePlay is about _abusive relationships_ when the word 'safe' is right there?"

Rachel's chin juts out. "It's a ploy," she says. "It's to… to make someone think they're safe there, but, Kurt, you're _not_. You don't need a boyfriend who… who ties you up."

Kurt manages a laugh at that, though it's more dry than anything else. "Oh, look at that, it's the first accurate thing you've said so far!" He leans back a little and folds his arms over his chest. "For the record, it's none of your business, but I would _like_ a boyfriend who enjoys being tied up."

"You—" Rachel cuts herself off and frowns, then looks around the room as though it's going to offer her some sort of insight. She's still frowning when she looks back at Kurt. "You… But you wouldn't hurt people, Kurt."

Kurt's smile this time is more than a little vicious. "It's so nice to have people here to tell me what my sex life should be like! Especially people who are never, ever going to be involved in it!" He leans forward. If he doesn't pursue this moment of weakness, she'll regain her footing. "The only thing you need to know about BDSM, since you're clearly not interested, is that it is about _everyone_ getting what they want. Just because it's not what _you_ want doesn't mean— Well, it doesn't mean anything. At all." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded slip of paper. "But since you're Rachel Berry and can't mind your own business, I've written down some links where you can learn a little more."

Rachel reaches for the paper. Kurt pulls his hand back so that she can't reach it, not yet. "No, I'm not done talking," he says. "You reading these links does not mean you know about me. It does not give you the right to dictate anything about my life. I'm just giving you this so that you stop talking about this, because if you say anything about this in front of _any_ boyfriend I have in the future, I will cut you out of my life. And I'm not kidding." In his mind's eye, he can see Blaine sitting there, taking every word, every stupid mischaracterization. He doesn't know if that's true— maybe Blaine _would_ argue. But he's still so new to this, and Kurt refuses to knowingly invite anyone into a hostile environment.

Rachel takes the paper with surprising delicacy. "I'm not going to be okay with this," she says, but there's a little waver in her voice that Kurt recognizes. He relaxes.

"Yes, you will," he says. "Just remember that if you hadn't read my VR log, you wouldn't have to deal with any of this at all. Because it's _my business._ " He wiggles his fingers at her, then stands up and moves to the kitchen. "And because I'm a very good friend, even after that, I'm going to make dinner for both of us."

Kurt throws himself into cooking without waiting for a response. When he finally chances a glance back over his shoulder, he finds Rachel sitting there, looking down at the paper. He relaxes further and lets himself smile at the food he's cooking.

* * *

"Blaine!" Trent's excited voice rises over the quiet murmur of voices, and Blaine stands up to beam at him. Trent holds himself back for one moment before leaning in for a hug. Blaine relaxes into it and hugs back. "It's so good to see you again. College is so strange without you."

Trent's enthusiasm is contagious. Blaine feels it like champagne bubbles under his skin. "I didn't really know what to do with myself for the first part of the semester," he admits. "It's so different from Dalton."

"There's a lot more alcohol, that's for sure." The waiter seats them at a table for two, lit by a single candle, but the Warblers never cared, and especially not Trent. Trent talks about his own college experience and hangs onto every word Blaine says like Blaine hung the moon. Blaine has to take a moment to pretend to be distracted by his spaghetti as he realizes that he never _stopped_ having friends. He and Trent didn't just get along because they were Warblers, they got along because they were _friends_.

"Blaine? Are you okay?"

Blaine looks up. "Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I was just… thinking."

Trent gives him a warm smile. "Tonight's going to be great, isn't it?" he enthuses. He looks down at his plate. "Well, I'm ready when you are."

Blaine takes a deep breath and forks up some more spaghetti with a showy twirl. "I'll be done soon," he says, grinning with a bravado that he doesn't feel. He's not even nervous; he's just trying not to think about it at all. But he's not excited the way he should be. This is a major step that he wants to take, and it's going to be good for him. It should feel like taking that first step towards NYADA. Instead, he doesn't feel anything beyond his happiness at getting to see Trent.

Trent waits, though Blaine can see the way he shifts too often and glances at the clock when he thinks Blaine isn't looking. Neither of them have dessert. And then, once they've split the check, it's time. Blaine takes a deep breath, reflexively, although there aren't any nerves to steady. It's like a performance, he thinks. All he has to do is get up on a metaphorical stage and sing.

He's ready. Kurt's prepared him for this. He's going to be fine. _Everything_ is going to be fine.

Except the closer they get to the club, the more visibly excited Trent gets and the more Blaine feels his feet dragging. Trent's a few feet ahead of Blaine by the time they find the discreet sign, and he turns around with a bright anticipation lighting up his face. "Come on, Blaine, let's not lose each other!" he calls.

It's as though there's an invisible wall between Blaine and the club. He takes one step and then just stops. Trent's smile melts into a concerned frown, and he walks back towards Blaine. "Blaine? Are you okay?"

Blaine opens his mouth to reassure Trent. Of course he's fine. There aren't even any butterflies in his stomach. But when he tries to speak, what comes out instead is: "I'm not really sure about this."

Trent winces. "Did I push too fast?" he asks, his voice wry. "I'm really sorry, I just got so excited. It's great to do things with you again, and I thought you were on board, too. I shouldn't have assumed."

"No, I was!" Blaine hesitates and corrects himself. "I thought I was." He runs a hand over his hair and takes a step back. "You know what, I think I need to— there's something—"

Trent doesn't look mollified. "Are you _sure_ you're okay? I won't be mad if you're not."

Blaine composes himself with some effort and shakes his head. "I'm fine. I think I'm going to stick to SafePlay for tonight, though. Maybe the other night?"

Trent keeps watching him, his expression wide-open and earnest. "Yes, of course, if you're up for it," he says. "Listen, about safe calls…"

"I can still be your safe call," Blaine says firmly, because he is _not_ going to be a bad friend in this regard as well. "I just…" He hesitates, debating how much of the truth to tell. "There's some unfinished business that I need to deal with. I thought I would be fine with it, but I'm not. I just need to fix it."

There's no comprehension in Trent's face, but Trent nods, because he's a fantastic friend. "You'll be hearing from me in a while, then," he says. "Try not to fall asleep before then."

Blaine's already planning to route his phone calls through to SafePlay just in case, but he nods and smiles and watches Trent disappear into the club alone. As soon as Blaine's alone again, he pulls his phone out.

> _Hi, Kurt, this is Blaine. I really want to see you. This isn't a punishment thing, I don't need to scene. I just want to talk to you about something. Are you available in half an hour?_

The response takes a little longer than usual; Blaine's almost home by the time he gets the notification, and he's wondering if Kurt's going to be able to meet him at all. But the message is short and as friendly as ever. _Hello, Blaine! I'd love to talk to you. I'll be available in about five minutes, so come online whenever._

Blaine's heart jumps, more out of reflex than anything else, and he puts his phone away. The dorm feels oddly charged for something so empty; most of the students are away, but Blaine can feel tension from every wall like it's coming from outside of him rather than from within. He pulls out his headset and stares at it for a long moment before putting it on and flicking the switch.

Kurt looks incredible, of course, calm and composed where Kurt's model was distant and melancholy. Blaine swallows and kneels on the floor. He doesn't lower his head or put his wrists on his knees— it's not a scene, he just wants to be here, in front of Kurt, on the floor one last time. "Kurt," he says, keeping his voice soft.

"Hello again, Blaine," Kurt replies, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He reaches out to brush his fingers over Blaine's skin. "It just so happens that I have something to talk to you about, as well."

"You do?" Blaine blinks and looks up. He's not sure what Kurt could possibly have to tell him— is his programming going proprietary? Being retired? Would this have been the last chance Blaine would have with him anyway? A feeling like a sharp chunk of ice lodges in Blaine's chest right under his heart.

Kurt shakes his head. "It can wait," he says. "You had something you wanted to talk about first? Or were you just lonely?"

"No, I…" Blaine's mind goes blank for a moment, but Kurt waits. "I went out with a friend tonight," Blaine starts. "From high school. He's the one who told me about SafePlay. He's in New York for a few days."

"In New York?" Kurt repeats, shifting and leaning forward. "Is that where you live, Blaine?" He sounds— happy. Really happy.

Blaine blinks. "I go to college here," he explains. His skin is prickling back in the real world, like there's something— He shakes his head. "I… that doesn't matter. He's visiting and he wanted to take me to a club."

"Oh," Kurt breathes, and the strange happiness has drained out of his voice, though he's still as kind as he always is. "Is this… Blaine? I'm not sure what you're looking for, you need to tell me."

He sounds almost _nervous_. Blaine shivers. "I think," he says, looking down at the floor, "that I'm ready." He can't look at Kurt for this. He _can't_. "I want something more than… SafePlay."

"Oh?" There's so much in that one syllable that Blaine doesn't understand.

"I want…" Blaine looks up again, pleading. He's not sure whether he wants Kurt to smile and nod or wrap Blaine up in his arms and refuse to let him do this. "I know I probably won't be very good, but I want to try. I want something _real_."

"Blaine," Kurt says, breathy and impossibly fond, "you are _so_ good. You don't need to doubt that."

Blaine swallows hard. "Okay." He squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath. Every instinct in him screams not to do this, that there's _something wrong_ , but he pushes that instinct away. He needs this closure. "I can't do SafePlay with you anymore, Kurt. I want to find a real Dom."


	9. Chapter 9

_"Excuse_ me?" Kurt says, and in that short amount of time his voice gone colder than Blaine's ever heard it before.

_Wrong,_ Blaine's entire body screams. _Wrong wrong wrong._ He's frozen, his eyes wide, staring at the expression on Kurt's face. It's an expression he's never seen there before, and it's pain. Why would they program an AI Dom to feel _pain?_

They wouldn't. Would they?

Blaine can't make himself speak, doesn't know what he would say because he doesn't know what's going on. He shakes his head rapidly, instead, hoping that Kurt will somehow understand.

Kurt holds himself tense, his eyes darting over Blaine's face, then slowly, very slowly, lets out a long breath and looks away. "All right," he says, and this time his voice is brittle but not cold. "There's clearly been some sort of miscommunication here. But I don't know what it is, Blaine, and I can't—" He cuts himself off and folds his arms over his chest, not crossed.

"Kurt?" Blaine croaks.

Kurt's eyes soften a little at that, but he still looks impossibly sad. "I still don't know what you want, Blaine, and I don't think either of us are in a good place to talk about it." He takes another deep breath, and Blaine's caught, trapped. "If you don't want me anymore, I'm not going to push you to talk about why. But if you want to explain what's going on, I would— appreciate that." He reaches out and very gently puts a hand on Blaine's head. It's a goodbye; Blaine feels that even before Kurt vanishes.

Blaine's left alone in the room, kneeling in front of nobody, with a gaping wound in his chest. Something went wrong. Blaine did something wrong, and he doesn't know what. He stays there in VR until a rush of hopeless frustration gives him the strength to flick off the headset and blink himself back into awareness.

A slow dread creeps up around his neck as he stares up at the ceiling, threatening to choke him. He puts the headset back on immediately and returns to SafePlay before he can think better of it. He doesn't wait for the harmonizer to ask his preferences this time— he types them all in manually, his fingers stumbling over themselves in their haste. He thinks he can remember what he put in that first time, every checkbox, every limit. He appears in the room.

"Hello," the AI Dom says, and Blaine stumbles backwards because _it's a blank model_ , the type they use for crowd scenes in every VR world ever. "Please confirm your preferred physical characteristics or re-select—"

Blaine turns the headset off, breathing hard. He can't seem to catch his breath no matter how much air he sucks in. He knows he selected an AI Dom that first time, he _knows_. He remembers getting that confirmed by the harmonizer. It's not possible.

Blaine presses a pillow to his mouth for a few seconds, needing the contact of something solid, something not-him. When he can breathe normally again, he sits up and goes over to the computer on his desk. His heart is still beating too fast, a wounded bird fluttering against a glass window, but he doesn't care. He needs to know what's going on.

Once he's pulled up the search engine, though, he hesitates. What does he search for? Does he really want to know? He does, he knows that; he has to know because he hurt _Kurt_ somehow and that's unacceptable. He types in _safeplay ai dom mismatch_ and holds his breath.

The search results explode across the screen with headers like "BDSM Community Hiding Hazardous and Invasive Bug," "UnSafePlay," and "Leaving SafePlay forever FUCKING FIX THIS." Blaine's vision blurs for a moment, but he blinks it back and scrolls down. His heart isn't a wounded bird anymore; it feels like it's lying still in his chest. He clicks on "SafePlay creators respond to allegations of privacy invasion."

It's a simple article, dated back around the time Blaine first started using SafePlay. Blaine's hands tremble as he clicks the first link in the body of the article.

> _Here at SafePlay, we have built a community around safety and control. But as a few of our users found out, VR code is not infallible, and neither are we. The bug affected a very small percentage of users and was caused by an incompatibility between the initial software on the older versions of the chips and the changes we've made as SafePlay and technology have advanced. If you're keeping up to date with update downloads, this sort of bug will not have affected you, and we've written in a forced upgrade if your current chip would cause incompatibility issues of this sort._
> 
> _If your account was affected, or if you are having other problems, SafePlay urges you to use the tech support contact address at any time. There is 24 hour live help available for all of our users._

There's more, but Blaine doesn't read it. His eyes refuse to focus properly anymore, and it takes him a moment to realize that there are tears in his eyes. His whole body is cold and unmoving except for the way he's shaking. No. No, no, no. He feels like he's floating, like he's back in VR and nothing is real. Everything seems so obvious in hindsight— why didn't he ask Kurt? Why didn't he read through SafePlay's update log, where he would have found this?

But Blaine didn't, and he just said—

Blaine just ruined—

Blaine shuts down the computer and pushes himself away from the desk in one jerky motion. Everything spins around his head until he's dizzy with it. Every word he said, every bit of praise Kurt ever gave him, piles up on top of him, pressing him down until he's bleeding with it.

* * *

Kurt sets the headset aside with precise motions. His face is wet; he's been crying a little, but he's not crying anymore. He ducks into the bathroom and dabs at his cheeks with a damp washcloth. He feels… calm. Surprisingly so, considering that his worst fear might have come true. He frowns at himself in the mirror and dries his hands. The idea of losing Blaine still makes his heart hurt; hearing _that_ from him felt like being back in McKinley for one long, horrible moment.

But Kurt saw Blaine's face when Kurt reacted. Blaine looked like he'd been gutted, his eyes wide, the line of his body moving towards submission even though it wasn't a scene. Kurt doesn't know what Blaine was trying to say. He can't even begin to guess. But he's going to get the explanation he wants. Blaine won't leave it there, not when he reacted like that. Which means Kurt still has a chance to figure things out.

Whether or not they'll be together— Kurt doesn't let himself think about that, not now. He's not going to dwell on it. He draws himself up and moves back to his bed. There's an itch at the back of his head, a growing desire to email Blaine, to say something comforting to take away the look on Blaine's face, but Kurt promised not to push. He's going to be mature about this; he is going to stick to what he said he would do because whatever Kurt doesn't know about is making Blaine's life difficult enough.

He is _so not in the mood_ when Rachel sticks her head in the door. "Kurt?" she asks hesitantly, her eyes widening.

"No," Kurt snaps, holding out his hand to ward her off. Maybe he's doing better than he thought he would, but there's still an ache in his chest. "Don't you dare, Rachel."

Rachel creeps forward despite his warning and sits down next to him on the bed. "I was going to tell you that I have decided to educate myself on your lifestyle," she says. "But you look upset. Did something happen?"

Kurt sighs and drops his hand to his lap. He looks at her for a long moment, weighing her sincerity with everything he knows about Rachel Berry. "Yes," he says finally, cautiously. "I thought things were going very well, but… Honestly, I'm not really sure what happened." Rachel makes a small noise and wraps her arms around him. He holds out a heartbeat longer before relaxing a little against her. "What, you're not going to take this opportunity to tell me it's what I deserve for going to SafePlay in the first place?"

"Kurt," Rachel says primly, "that would have been a gross stereotype of your situation. It would be foolish to ignore the focus on consent and negotiation within a kinky relationship, and, as your friend, it is my duty to be supportive." She says each word like she's poking it from afar with a stick. "I apologize for misunderstanding your situation and vow to listen properly in the future."

Kurt laughs a little at that, just a huff of breath without humor. "You won't," he says easily, because it's true. She always promises, she almost never does, and, despite that, she's become his friend over the years. "It just hurts. Things were going so well, but now I don't know what's going on with Blaine, and I can't just _ask_ because I promised him I wouldn't push."

"Blaine," Rachel repeats, and her voice is strange. Kurt tenses. He is _not_ going to deal with another freakout if she's already going back on her promise. But she just asks, "Blaine Anderson?"

"I don't know, Rachel, the point of meeting a stranger in VR is that there's some measure of anonymity." He pulls away and frowns at her. But she doesn't look like she's going to recant her newly-found supportive attitude; she looks like she's just stumbled on some secret treasure-trove.

_"Kurt,"_ she says urgently. "The boy I met, the one who would have been perfect for you. _His name was Blaine!"_

"What?" Kurt shakes his head. "It's not _that_ uncommon a name." But, despite himself, the gears in the back of his mind are moving. His Blaine— not _his_ Blaine, maybe not ever— goes to college in NYC. Blaine is musically inclined and friendly and has friends from an a cappella show choir. He takes dance classes. It's too much of a coincidence, and Kurt turns his entire body towards Rachel so abruptly that she squeaks and nearly falls off the bed. "Rachel. Tell me what happened."

She pushes herself upright. "There isn't very much to tell. I went to retrieve my bag, which I had left in one of the practice rooms by accident, and he handed it to me. He was very handsome," she added, "and he immediately informed me that he was gay, to which I replied that you were _also_ gay."

"Never do that again, by the way," Kurt says. "I mean it."

Rachel looks like she's going to argue for a moment, but, by some small mercy, she doesn't. "He told me that he wasn't single—" Kurt's heart leaps and plummets in the same instant; does Blaine have a boyfriend already? Was he talking about Kurt?— "and I gave him my phone number in case he changed his mind. That's it."

"You didn't tell him my name?" Kurt asks.

"No," Rachel says, and she looks sad. "You didn't tell him about _me?"_

"Anonymity, Rachel," Kurt sings. "What did he look like?"

"Oh, I don't know. He wore a lot of gel?" Kurt bites down on a sarcastic reply and taps his fingers against the headboard. SafePlay Blaine doesn't wear gel, but that's no proof either way. He doubts SafePlay Blaine goes around shoeless and kneeling in public, either, as appealing an image as that is. "Oh, Kurt, this is perfect! He was with one of my classmates, I could find her and then she could find him, and I could hook you up after all!"

Kurt is shaking his head before she's finished. "No, Rachel. First of all, I would only go out with Blaine if he's _my_ Blaine. Second of all, I already told you, I'm not going to push him."

"I don't understand why not." She pouts at him. "You'll never know if he's the same person unless you ask!"

"I'm _not going to push him,"_ Kurt repeats. He shakes his head and shoos Rachel off the bed and out of the room. "Okay, I think it's time for you to give me some well-deserved privacy. I have work to do."

Rachel gives him one last sad-eyed look, but Kurt ignores her until she's gone. Half-formed ideas swirl around in his head. He did say he wouldn't push, but surely he can broach the subject in a way that won't put Blaine into an uncomfortable position. The thought feels right, and he opens his email with a decisive swipe of his thumb.

> _Dear Blaine—_

—Because even though his first instinct is to shield himself, that's not what _Blaine_ needs.

_I realize that I said I wouldn't push you, but you were worrying me back there._ Kurt stops there, restless. Then, with a deep breath, he lets himself sink more fully into the space he needs to be in. _Please let me know how you're doing. It doesn't matter what you decide. I still want to know that you're safe and taking care of yourself._

He reads through it once and sends it off before he can think better of it. He gets up, intent on doing something to distract himself, but before he can decide, he hears the telltale ping of a new email.

> _Kurt I am so so sorry I feel so stupid I didn't mean it that way at all i'm so sorry_

Kurt exhales slowly, staring at the words. That's not the way someone who's okay writes. He's loathe to go back into SafePlay, not with things as they are, so after a moment's hesitation he sends a reply. _Blaine, calm down. If you want to talk, give me your phone number._

It takes longer for a reply to come in this time, but there it is— Blaine's phone number. Kurt calls him immediately and closes his eyes as he hears Blaine's breathing over the line. It's shaky, and before Kurt can say anything Blaine starts talking. "I'm _so sorry_ , Kurt, I didn't realize, and if I'd been more careful I—"

"Blaine," Kurt says. His heart is aching again, but for a different reason entirely. "Calm down. I'm not mad. _Calm down._ Breathe in, breathe out." He hears Blaine obey him, so he repeats it until Blaine's breathing sounds more normal. "All right, there we go. It doesn't sound like you're quite ready to talk yet."

"No, I— I want to," Blaine says, but after that there's a long pause. "Maybe not yet. I need to— You live in New York City, right?"

"Right." He sounds more normal now. "And so do you." Kurt _definitely_ remembers that part of the conversation.

Blaine hesitates for a long moment. "Can I… meet you…?" He trails off oddly, and Kurt wonders if he was going to add a sir to that. "You don't have to say yes, I know I messed up—"

"Blaine." Kurt doesn't think his voice could get any gentler than this. All his feelings for Blaine are still there, raw and stinging but impossible to avoid. "It's alright. I'm not going to say no. Yes, I'll meet you. Somewhere public, of course, as etiquette demands, and you can decide where. Email me in the morning."

"Yeah," Blaine breathes. "Thank you so much, Kurt, I won't let you down." He sounds determined, and Kurt finds himself smiling at nothing. Blaine doesn't disconnect immediately, but he stays on the line, so Kurt stays with him. It's intimate, and Kurt feels warmer when Blaine finally hangs up.

* * *

Blaine manages to fall asleep after hearing Kurt over the phone— over the _phone_ , Kurt is real, _Kurt is real_ — until Trent's ringtone pulls him out of a deep sleep. Blaine wrenches himself awake. "Hello? Trent?"

"Blaine!" Trent sounds happy. "Hey, everything's okay, and I'm going to be home by five."

Blaine relaxes. "I'm really glad you're okay," he says.

"You were that worried about me?" Blaine doesn't think he's imagining how pleased Trent sounds. "I'm blushing, Blaine." There's a muffled giggle on the other end. "I should probably go, though. Let me know how you feel about coming back here with me?"

"About that," Blaine says. He closes his eyes. He shouldn't tell Trent this now, not when Trent's night has gone well. But he needs to talk to someone who's not Kurt, and he could tell Trent everything because Trent already knows about SafePlay…

"Is something wrong?" Trent asks, and he sounds more serious this time. The muffled laughter is gone.

Blaine forces himself to laugh. "No, it's nothing important. I'll tell you later. Have a good night."

"Oh, I already did," Trent sighs happily. "Good night, Blaine." And then he's gone. Blaine sets the phone down again, carefully, and lies on his side. He doesn't fall back asleep.

At eight thirty in the morning, Blaine calls Wes. He's buzzing with possibility, and he doesn't even mind that Wes is cranky. "Blaine Warbler, why are you calling me this early?"

"I need your help," Blaine says. "You remember how the Warblers helped me serenade Jeremiah?" It almost doesn't hurt to say anymore.

"Of course. But I'm in Chicago, and you're in New York. I'm not coming down to help you serenade a prospective boyfriend. One person would be insufficient backup."

"Trent's here, too, but no, that's not what I'm asking." Blaine leans forward. "You still have your Feel That Beat account, right?"

Wes is quiet for so long that Blaine wonders if he's going to refuse. But this is Wes and music and Blaine's voice, which Wes has always championed. "Let me eat breakfast first," is all he says. "Would twenty minutes be good for you?"

"That would be perfect," Blaine breathes. "Bye, Wes." Wes grumbles something incoherent and hangs up, leaving Blaine alone with too much energy. For those twenty minutes Blaine puts all that focus into cleaning— he washes the windows, he straightens his desk, he dusts. He ends up waiting in Feel That Beat anyway, picking out a tune on the piano and singing.

"All right," Wes says when he finally appears. He looks older and even more mature than he did in high school. Blaine grins at him. "What sort of song were you thinking?"

"He likes Broadway," Blaine offers. "I thought I could do something like that."

Wes nods slowly. "That would be a safe choice." He slides onto the piano seat, straight-backed and professional. "All Of You is well-regarded as a love song. You could even change 'lass' to something else if you'd like." That's a big concession from Wes, who hates changing the words in any songs.

Blaine shakes his head immediately. "No, not— that." _I'd love to gain complete control of you_ couldn't be farther from the truth. "I was thinking Change In Me?" Wes looks blank. "It's from the Broadway production of Beauty and the Beast."

"Is that really appropriate? You said he liked Broadway, not Disney movies." Wes fiddles with a keypad until some sheet music appears in a thick stack. "Here, this is a list of classic love songs from Broadway."

Blaine takes the music happily and sits down on the floor to look through it. "Thank you, Wes," he says when he's discarded a few. "You've always been really great with music, and it means a lot to me that you would help with this."

Wes doesn't say anything, but he smiles at Blaine before he starts to pick out one of the songs on the piano, and Blaine goes back to the sheet music feeling like he's going to be okay.

* * *

Kurt's not quite sure what to expect when he and Blaine set up the meeting at Battery Park. He reminds himself over and over that it's not a date, but Blaine sounds tentative and hopeful even in email. Kurt can't think that it's _nothing._ He goes through his wardrobe to pick just the right outfit and spends plenty of time making sure his hair is just right before he leaves the apartment.

It starts to snow just as Kurt reaches the park. The flakes are fluffy and slow, wet enough to clump together, and Kurt's breath catches. Blaine is already there, pacing around with a bouquet of flowers in the crook of one arm, and when he catches sight of Kurt he _lights up_. Kurt smiles at him and steps forward. He wants to reach out and _make_ Blaine be still, but he doesn't. Not in public. Not when they haven't even talked yet.

"Kurt," Blaine says, and then he takes a deep breath. And then, without warning, he starts to sing, completely unaccompanied, his voice strong and clear and beautiful. _"Like the beat, beat, beat, of the tom-tom when the jungle shadows fall…"_

Kurt's smiling so hard that his whole face hurts. The entire world has narrowed down to the man in front of him, and he couldn't be happier. As Blaine sings, "So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you," Kurt steps forward and takes both of Blaine's wrists in his, around the bouquet. Blaine's voice doesn't falter; he looks into Kurt's eyes with his heart bare.

Kurt stands there quietly and lets Blaine finish the song, feeling Blaine's pulse beat steady under his fingertips.


	10. Chapter 10

The magical spell doesn't fade when Blaine stops singing, and Kurt can't bring himself to tease over the choice of song. They sit down together on a bench, Kurt holding the bouquet in one arm and Blaine's wrist with the fingers of his other hand. Blaine looks at him like he's every one of Blaine's wishes come true. Kurt strokes his thumb over Blaine's skin. "We should talk about what's been going on," he says with some reluctance. Blaine's enthusiasm visibly dims, but Kurt pulls Blaine's hand over and looks him in the eye. "I'm not going to be mad, Blaine. But you've been giving me very mixed signals, and I think I _do_ need to know what's going on."

"I know," Blaine says. "You do. It's just… stupid." He grimaces and tugs his hat down further over his ears. It's ridiculous, and it's probably a sign that Kurt finds the hat endearing rather than appalling. "I thought you were an AI."

Kurt hears himself give a startled laugh. "What?" He watches the way Blaine's mouth tugs downwards. "No, Blaine, I'm just confused. You can tell me."

"There was… a bug." Blaine looks down at Kurt's hand on his wrist, and Kurt lets go. Blaine sighs and reaches into his coat pocket. "I brought this with me so that you could see." He moves through a few screens and then holds it out to Kurt.

Kurt dutifully skims the text. "Oh," he says softly, as the implications start to sink in. Blaine wasn't looking for a match-up to begin with; he was looking for an AI. He hurts for Blaine, thrown into a situation he didn't want and didn't have control over, and everything about what Blaine _didn't_ do makes so much more sense, suddenly. "Blaine, do you…"

"I just want you," Blaine says, too fast, the words tumbling out of his mouth before Kurt can finish that sentence. His eyes are bright and unwavering. "From the beginning, it was always you. You're so perfect, Kurt, I didn't know how you _could_ be real. It never occurred to me because how could anyone be so perfect? You're so kind and so strong, and I… I always thought if I ever had a— Dom, I'd want them to be half as good as you are. But you were real all along."

Kurt's breath catches in his throat. "Blaine," he says.

But Blaine isn't done. "I don't know if you're— looking for a sub, or if you'd want me. I know I hurt you," he adds. "I didn't mean it, I promise, I _swear_ , but I know I did. I kept seeing you— real you— around, and I wanted more than SafePlay." He stops there, looking lost and a little desperate, nothing like the composed professional who sang to Kurt.

Kurt reaches out again to take Blaine's wrist. "Hey," he says softly. "What did I say about you, Blaine?" He squeezes, gently, and Blaine relaxes a little. "Here you are, in the middle of New York. You serenaded me and brought me flowers. You follow every order so well. Of course I want you." He leans forward, in the middle of a small snow flurry, and kisses Blaine. Blaine's mouth is warm, and he makes a needy little sound that Kurt has to kiss away.

When Kurt pulls back, mindful of the fact that there are other people around, Blaine looks dazed and ridiculously happy. "You taste great," he says, then ducks his head a little. "I mean— I always wanted that."

"Well, Blaine," Kurt says, "sometimes people who are very, very good get what they want."

Kurt savors the way Blaine's eyes crinkle as he leans forward almost helplessly, like there's nothing in the world he could do to stop himself from kissing Kurt. "Kurt," Blaine breathes, centimeters from Kurt's mouth. "Will you do me the honor of accompanying me for coffee?" Kurt catches Blaine's mouth with his own instead of answering. He doesn't pull away until his lips are tingling and wet. Blaine licks his own lips. "Is that a—"

"Yes. Yes, Blaine." Kurt slides their hands together, locking his fingers with Blaine's. "We should talk about this more, of course, but yes."

Blaine lets out a breath and some tightly held tension that Kurt hadn't even noticed leaves his body. "I won't let you down again," he says.

"That's very sweet," Kurt says, "but the first part of this arrangement is going to be that you don't have to worry so much about that. What matters is that we'll talk about these things as they happen." He turns their linked hands and pushes Blaine's sleeves back enough that he can press a kiss to Blaine's wrist. Blaine's breath catches. "We'll work it out together."

"Kurt," Blaine says, sounding overwhelmed, and Kurt stands before he can lean in and kiss Blaine again.

"I believe I was promised coffee?"

* * *

"Are you sure?" Kurt asks softly. His hand is warm on the back of Blaine's neck as Blaine kneels next to his legs. "We could still call Trent and go with him, if you like." He sighs a little. "And it isn't as though you have the supplies for this."

"I don't want to be around anyone else right now," Blaine says. He presses his face to Kurt's knee. "Just you, sir."

Kurt laughs, warm and welcoming and _real_. "Oh, no, no. We're going to talk _before_ we scene for a while. No more misunderstandings, isn't that right?" Kurt's voice is light and teasing, and though Blaine feels the flush of shame wash over him, it's buried quickly by anticipation, by how easily Kurt's able to shrug it off. How Kurt is right here, warm and solid. Blaine can _smell_ him-- warm and clean and uniquely Kurt under the faintly scented body wash. Blaine wants to press close and breathe him deep forever. "Are you paying attention, Blaine?"

"Yes, sir," Blaine says dreamily, because he's allowed to do this, he's allowed to drift. Kurt will bring him back. Kurt laughs and pets him. "We need to talk first."

They're in Blaine's dorm room, which is far from ideal but at least boasts privacy, since Blaine's roommate is gone for the holidays. It's small and crowded in here, even with one person, but Blaine cleaned it up as much as he could and put flowers on the windowsill, and Kurt doesn't seem too put off by it. Blaine puts his wrists on his knees and breathes deeper.

Kurt brushes the backs of his fingernails down the side of Blaine's face, and Blaine inhales shakily as pure want washes through him at the touch. "Seriously, Blaine. I need you to tell me you're okay with this."

"I want this, sir," Blaine says, lifting his eyes up to Kurt's face so Kurt can see how serious he is. "I just want you. I don't need toys."

Kurt's gaze is soft, with a sharp edge of hunger underneath. There's no VR to blunt his edges here. "Don't lie to me, Blaine, I know how much you like being tied up. You're really not going to give me much to work with, are you?" His spine firms before Blaine can react to the teasing, effortlessly in command. "All right. Strip."

"Yes, sir!" Blaine says eagerly, relaxing into Kurt's control, and he fumbles to strip while still on his knees. He's managed it before in VR, but in real life it ends up involving a lot more mistakes than he would have expected; he bangs his knee up against the side of the bed and nearly crashes his face into Kurt's legs when he loses his balance. Kurt has to order him to slow down and put a hand on Blaine's shoulder to steady him, and Blaine obeys. It feels like everything inside him is bubbling up to the surface, like he would float up and away with it without Kurt there to anchor him.

Once Blaine's done, Kurt tilts his chin up with one finger. Blaine closes his eyes and focuses on that sensation. He parts his lips, hoping that Kurt will let him taste his hand, but Kurt pulls away instead. "Stay there and don't move."

Blaine stays there, but he opens his eyes when he hears the bed creak. He watches as Kurt takes off his own clothes, carefully, layer by layer. He's fastidious here in a way that he's not in VR, careful to fold and smooth the fabric out. Blaine watches him, watches his bare skin revealed a little at a time, and thinks he's never wanted anyone more.

"Come here, Blaine," he says when he's done. He doesn't even turn to look at Blaine, he just pats the bed beside him, and Blaine crawls up eagerly. "Kiss me." And Blaine does, frantic and sloppy as Kurt laughs into his mouth. "It's all right," Kurt murmurs when he pulls back. "I'm not going anywhere."

Those are the best words in the world, Blaine thinks, and he takes a deep breath and then another, shuddering as happiness hits him like a wave. Maybe he's never really been happy before, because he's never felt anything like _this_.

"Hey," Kurt says, even quieter. "It's okay." He sits down on the bed and strokes Blaine's back, soothing him. Blaine rests there against him and just focuses on Kurt's breathing, on the way their skin touches. "I'm here, Blaine. It's all right." When Blaine's calmer, Kurt takes his wrists and holds them, reaching around behind Blaine's back. "Hold these for me."

Blaine obeys eagerly, curling his fingers around his own wrists, awkward but tight. He's ready when Kurt pushes down so that Blaine is bending forward, his mouth pressing against the very tip of Kurt's cock. He opens his mouth, but Kurt flicks him.

"No, Blaine. Wait."

Wait. The command thrums under Blaine's skin, and he obeys. Kurt shifts backwards, and Blaine hears a small whine come from his own throat at the loss, but Kurt just laughs breathlessly and presses Blaine down further, until his head is against the bedspread. Kurt's hands are solid and warm and strong against Blaine's skin, and Blaine wants them all over. He trembles from the effort of holding still; it's _different_ out here, he's not as relaxed. He feels so much more naked out here, so much more exposed. As much as he wants it, it's scary.

"Tell me what you want, Blaine." As Kurt speaks, his hands travel down Blaine's back and over his sides, stroking up the outside of his thighs, over his ass. Blaine hangs his head and gasps.

" _You,_ sir," Blaine breathes out.

Kurt's hands don't stop, just keep moving slow and inexorable over Blaine's skin. "That's very vague," he says. "Would you like to use your mouth, Blaine? Tell me."

"Please, sir!" Blaine doesn't shift against Kurt's hands. He needs to be good, he needs to obey.

"Shhh. Okay, Blaine, you can move. But no using your hands; keep those behind your back for me." Kurt strokes his back one more time and shifts. The tips of his fingers trail over Blaine's neck and then they're gone.

Blaine's careful not to pull himself up too much. He stays low to the bed and shifts forward in a sort of shuffle, pressing a desperate kiss to the inside of Kurt's knee. He hears something crinkling and a distant part of him registers what it is even as the rest of him is focused on the taste of Kurt's skin. He licks carefully up Kurt's thigh, glancing up just once to make sure this is okay, and Kurt smiles down at him.

"That's it," he says. "Good boy. Keep going."

Blaine throws himself into his task, humming with delight. He kisses and licks his way up Kurt's leg, then nudges the head of Kurt's cock with his nose. With his mouth pressed to Kurt's hip, his face tucked this way, he's surrounded by Kurt. He can feel Kurt's breathing through his skin, can taste Kurt on his tongue. There is nothing here that isn't real and perfect in every imperfect detail. Blaine never wants it to end.

"You are so good, Blaine," Kurt murmurs. "You try so hard, and that's all I would ever ask. You're so good for me, you're— You're gorgeous like this, doing exactly what I wanted you to. You are so, so wonderful."

Blaine whimpers against Kurt's thigh and for a second he can't breathe. Then he leans in to take the head of Kurt's cock in his mouth. He can't taste Kurt like this, but he can taste _something_ , and Kurt gasps over him. Encouraged, Blaine slides down further, flicking his tongue, until the awkward angle catches him and everything else falls away. He's helpless here, pinned; the thought that he couldn't get away from Kurt if he wanted to leaves him breathless and aching with want all over again. With renewed determination, he sets to work.

"Blaine," Kurt says, his voice rough. "Careful, Blaine. Don't choke." He strokes Blaine's hair, through the gel, and Blaine's eyes water a little as he slides the flat of his tongue up the underside of Kurt's cock. Blaine _wants_ to choke a little, wants to take as much of Kurt as he can. "Oh," Kurt says, and laughs a little, just a few huffs of breath. _"Blaine._ Next time we're washing the gel out beforehand." Kurt's fingers scrape through the gel, and Blaine has to pull back and breathe hard through his nose at the thought of Kurt taking his hair, _guiding_ Blaine, making him perfect. "Keep going, sweetheart."

Blaine could come just from the idea of Kurt's cock in his mouth, just from the fact that Kurt is _here_ , with him. But he doesn't. He keeps tight hold of his wrists and sucks Kurt down as Kurt's hand curls around the back of Blaine's head. When Kurt comes, he's quiet, and Blaine keeps his mouth there until Kurt sighs and pushes Blaine very gently away to strip the condom off.

Blaine waits there, dropping his forehead to the bed, holding perfectly still.

"Blaine," Kurt says again, his voice raw. "Come here." His arm is around Blaine, supporting him, and Blaine leans into Kurt's shoulder as Kurt touches him, strokes him. "Come for me, sweetheart." And Blaine makes a helpless noise and does. Everything feels new and different, his skin sticky as Kurt holds him. "You were perfect," Kurt whispers, right in his ear.

Blaine closes his eyes. He almost can't get the words out through the lump in his throat. "You're always perfect."

Kurt laughs, bright and happy. Blaine's skin buzzes pleasantly. He doesn't have to wake up, he thinks. He doesn't have to lose this feeling. It's like flying. Blaine smiles against Kurt's neck as Kurt pries Blaine's fingers off his wrists and starts rubbing them. _I love you_ , he thinks. It's on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't blurt it out. Not yet. There will be time later, time when this isn't so new.

For now, he can wait.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Kurt asks, eyes searching all over Blaine's face as though the answer will have changed. It hasn't; Blaine smiles back at him, as happy as ever. "I refuse to hide just because Rachel couldn't mind her own business, but—" He sighs and steps forward to wrap his arms around Blaine. Blaine melts into the embrace, tucking his face against Kurt's neck. Kurt loves it, the feeling that he can stand between Blaine and the world this way. "If she makes you uncomfortable, I _will_ destroy her. So if she does, you need to tell me."

"Kurt, it'll be fine," Blaine says with all the confidence of someone who doesn't really know Rachel Berry. "It might be a little awkward at first, since she… knows… but I can deal with that as long as I'm with you. I want to do this." He hesitates. "And besides, it's probably good that she knows. We won't have to hide."

Kurt wants to tighten his arms and never let Blaine go, but he steps back and lets his hands glide down Blaine's arms to take his hands. "We could wait," he offers. "We have weeks. Months. I'm sure she'll get distracted at some point! Probably by a performance."

Blaine's eyes crinkle. "Kurt," he says.

Kurt sighs. "You're right," he says. "She'll never forget. She's like an elephant." He squeezes Blaine's hands. "Shall we?"

"I'm ready. I really want this, Kurt. I want to be your boyfriend, I want to meet your friends." Blaine looks around and lowers his voice, even though there's nobody else around. "I want to be everything for you."

"You already are," Kurt says, his voice soft, his eyes fixed on Blaine's. It hangs in the air between them. Blaine leans towards him, and, without looking, Kurt reaches for the door to open it. In a moment, they'll step inside, hand in hand, ready to face Rachel. But for this one moment— and many more in the future, Kurt promises himself— they just exist together, every breath Kurt takes mirrored by Blaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue left, but that might take a while. Thank you so much for reading!


	11. Epilogue

Kurt waits until the cold winter is starting to melt into spring before he brings up the subject. There's still plenty of time before summer-- though Blaine's started looking around for jobs, there's no guarantee, and without one he'll be returning to Ohio for the summer to work at an amusement park, apparently. Kurt isn't going to let that break them up, and so he sits Blaine down in the apartment once Rachel's left.

"Blaine, would you like to go into VR with me?"

Blaine blinks, his eyebrows furrowing. "I thought we didn't need that anymore," he says, his voice slow, as though he's trying to puzzle something out.

"Of course we don't _need_ it," Kurt says. He clasps his hands together in his lap and leans forward. "But VR isn't just there for… hookups, Blaine." He can't quite say the word normally. He still doesn't think what he and Blaine had was as simple as that, not when all that was keeping them apart for that long as a misunderstanding. It's strange, thinking back on it-- Kurt is uncomfortably aware that he was competing with an ideal version of himself and maybe still is. Blaine wasn't attracted to his faults, didn't believe he could have any.

But he knows now, and he loves Kurt. And that's what matters. That and the fact that Kurt can reduce Blaine to a writhing, begging mess on a regular basis _and_ help him clean up afterwards. That and the fact that Blaine stares at him with hearts in his eyes and appears after classes to hold hands or go shopping.

Kurt is tired of VR being the elephant in the room. He doesn't like elephants. They don't go with the decor anywhere.

Blaine still looks confused. "We could go if you want," he offers.

"Wrong answer." Kurt raises his eyebrows. "This needs to be your decision, Blaine, not something you just go along with because of me. You're the one with the hangups about realism, remember?"

Blaine takes a deep breath, then nods. "I just don't understand why."

Kurt looks at him for a long moment, considering. "Well, in addition to the fact that it would make certain decisions much easier this summer, there are plenty of things that are much easier and safer to do in VR," he says. "There are some things it's impossible to do in real life. Isn't that the point of VR for most people? To experience things that it wouldn't be possible to in reality?"

"But I have you," Blaine says simply, as though nobody could want anything else, still improbably confused and hopelessly charming.

"Flattering, that's very flattering, Blaine. I approve." Kurt reaches out to touch the side of Blaine's face with his fingertips and watches Blaine's eyelids flutter as he leans into the touch. "But I'm serious. It's the _only_ safe way to do bloodplay, _which_ \--" he holds up his other hand in a quelling gesture as Blaine's eyes widen, "--is _not_ something I want. Not even in VR. It's an example." He hesitates. "I know you liked being suspended that one time, and I know neither of us have complained about not doing it again, but… We could if we went back into VR."

Blaine closes his eyes. "I know _that's_ safe outside of VR."

"Probably, if you do it right," Kurt says. He strokes Blaine's cheek. "But you live in a dorm room, I live with _Rachel_ , and I absolutely refuse to use someone else's shoddy setup. Do you know how many thing can go wrong with something like that, Blaine? Lots. Lots and lots."

"I don't think a club would keep shoddy equipment," Blaine says, sounding amused. "And you wouldn't let anything happen to me."

Kurt closes his eyes. "Blaine," he says, as severely as he can manage without tipping Blaine over too hard. That's not what he wants for this conversation, the absolute trust in Blaine's voice, that beautiful surrender. "You're trying to distract me, and it won't work. This conversation is about VR, not about tying you up and making you absolutely helpless."

Blaine opens his mouth as though he's going to flirt more, then closes it again and looks thoughtful. Kurt takes his hand to stroke the lines of his palm and waits. "I… I could go back in," Blaine says. "It might feel weird, but I don't think it would feel _bad_."

"Would you be able to have fun?" Kurt asks gently.

Blaine hesitates again, his eyes going distant. "Yeah," he says after a while. "It's not— I know you're real, now. And I think that's what bothered me. But… would it be okay to go in… while we're in the same room physically?" He shifts and hunches his shoulders ever so slightly in what could be a shrug. "I'd want— afterwards, I might want—"

"Of _course_ ," Kurt says without letting him finish that stumbling line of thought. He squeezes Blaine's hand and smiles. "That's why I brought this up now. Rachel's going to be away for a good amount of time, and we don't have any plans. How would you feel about playing right now?"

Blaine's eyes light up, and Kurt knows he has his answer.


End file.
